A Tale of Ice and Smoke
by SooperSara
Summary: The world knows that the last Avatar was an airbending child who disappeared a century ago. But death by freezing isn't a simple thing, and when Katara discovers a boy in an iceberg, she learns how complicated life and death can be. After a century of despair, there are now two people with the power to save the world. *Eventual Zutara romance - slow burn*
1. Prologue: Ice and Smoke

**Prologue: Ice and Smoke**

She was born on one of the longest nights of the year. The coldest night, when the sun offered little more than a faint burnished glow at the edge of the horizon. When the only light that touched their village for more than a moment was the faint glimmer of stars and the vivid, twisting ribbons of the aurora.

The moon was full on the night she was born, and the air was so bitter that even the thickest layer of furs didn't keep the wind out for long. It was a sign, Gran-Gran insisted. The spirits were restless to meet the newest child of the Southern Water Tribe—so restless that the moon herself came to watch.

* * *

Until her second summer, Katara was perfectly ordinary. She was cheerful and stubborn, quick on her feet and full of mostly-nonsensical chatter. She toddled endlessly around their tent, and on warmer days, around the whole village, usually no more than three steps behind her brother. Sokka seemed pleased, most of the time, to have such a dedicated mimic.

It came as no surprise to Kya when Sokka threw a tantrum at the sight of the washtub, and Katara watched, eyes wide with fascination. When Katara's turn came—and Sokka stood to the side, wrapped in a towel, dripping and grumpy—she kicked and screamed louder than her brother, putting up a fight that even Hakoda's most fearless warriors might have balked at. Kya was unfazed. Scooping Katara up like a bundle of screeching, squirming laundry, Kya swung her over the basin of warm water. Kya didn't notice the fraction of a second when Katara went silent and rigid with concentration, but she did notice when, rather than plunging into the bath, Katara ended up sitting on top of it. The basin had frozen solid, and Katara pressed her plump hands to her mouth, giggling hysterically. No one was particularly surprised to discover that Katara was a waterbender, but only Gran-Gran had been certain of it from the start.

* * *

When Katara was three, a series of small fires broke out around the village. It began with patches of snow turning glossy and sunken, then there were spots where the snow was melted completely, exposing stones that hadn't come to the surface in more than a decade, leaving them blackened on one side. While the unexplained fires were troubling, few considered it to be much of a threat. After all, in their perpetually frozen landscape, there was very little to burn.

Most of the villagers believed it was some strange accident of the weather, that perhaps crystals of ice in the air focused the sunlight in such a way that it melted the snow. Kya and Hakoda believed it, and though Gran-Gran had her doubts, she had never seen anything quite like the blackened patches that now dotted the village. Freak ice crystals didn't make much sense, but neither did anything else.

Then one morning, while Hakoda took Sokka fishing, Katara set fire to her brother's bedroll in full view of both her mother and grandmother. In an instant of shared shock—and frantic pounding to put the flames out before they spread—both women knew that the fires were no accident of the weather. The rest of the village had celebrated Katara's waterbending, but this was different. This was dangerous. Without speaking a word, the women agreed that no one could ever know.

* * *

As time went on and Katara grew, it became almost possible to forget that she was anything more than a waterbender. The series of fires ended, and the village moved on. Under her mother's instruction, Katara learned to cook and sew, under her grandmother's, she learned the stories of their tribe, and under her father's, she learned to row a canoe.

In the autumn when Katara was six, Sokka smuggled a tiny fox-rabbit kit home in his pocket. In his sternest voice, he told Katara that the kit could be her pet too, but only if she agreed to keep it a secret. But Katara was too enthralled with the kit's large, dark eyes and silky white coat to listen. Despite her brother's insistence that their new pet stay hidden in the supply hut, she slipped in a few hours later and smuggled the sleeping kit out in the hood of her parka.

For most of the afternoon, the kit remained still and unnoticed, but when Katara began to sniffle and rub at her eyes, Kya gave her daughter a suspicious look. And when Katara finally gave in and let out a sneeze, the blast came with so much force that it lifted her feet off the ground and unlaced the tent flaps from top to bottom. A small, curious face poked out of Katara's hood, and as Kya fumbled to relace the flaps, she banished the fox-rabbit kit from the tent. A pet was one thing. A pet that revealed Katara's unusual bending was quite another.

* * *

And then, when Katara was eight, her world fell apart. She saw the smoke before it reached them—distant plumes of inky black that solidified as they drew nearer.

There was nothing to be done. The men had all gone hunting—by the time that the ash began to rain down on the village, it was too late to run for help. All that remained was for the women and children to hide or fight for themselves.

When the bow of the steel ship sliced through the wall of ice at the edge of the village, Katara ran. The soldiers in red didn't seem to notice her as she sped past as fast as her small legs could carry her. She had to get home. Everything would be okay there. There was no place in the world safer than her family's tent.

She burst through the open flaps of the tent to find yet another crimson figure standing over her mother. The man looked back at Katara for an instant, his narrow brown eyes skimming over her like she was hardly even there.

Kya looked around the man and whispered to her daughter to hide.

Too frightened to argue, Katara obeyed. She ran outside and cowered out of sight in the space between the inner and outer layers of the tent wall. From her hiding place, she heard the soldier ask her mother which of the villagers was the waterbender. They had orders, he told her, to burn the village to the ground if they couldn't find the one they were looking for. And as Katara squeezed her eyes shut, she heard her mother's voice, calm and steady.

 _It's me. I'm the waterbender._

There was a sound Katara couldn't identify, and then silence. As quickly as the chaos had begun, it was over. She wasn't certain of how long she hid, burning to know what had happened and yet paralyzed with fear. When she finally gathered the courage to emerge, the soldiers and the ship were gone.

Katara felt no surprise at the sight of her neighbors' smoldering tents, no terror at the sight of the blood-streaked snow. When she found Gran-Gran lying in the snow, there was no horror when the old woman didn't respond to her voice, no relief when she discovered that Gran-Gran was still breathing. And when at last Katara returned to her own tent, there was no confusion at the sight of her mother's unmoving eyes or the deep line of red across her throat. Too numb to feel anything at all, Katara sat. There was no use in doing anything else. Her mother was gone.

Katara didn't remember her father's return. She couldn't remember the sound of his footsteps growing louder as he raced back to camp, Sokka clinging to his back, and she couldn't remember the moment of horrified silence that passed before Hakoda shoved Sokka back from the tent and scooped Katara up like an infant to carry her outside. She didn't remember Sokka's confusion, or the way that her father knelt in the snow, holding them both so tight that it was hard to breathe. The sight of her mother's body blotted out everything else.

* * *

In the end, nearly twenty women and children died in the attack. Gran-Gran, along with most of the wounded, recovered. And slowly, day by day, the tribe began to heal.

Nightmares became Katara's inescapable companion—most nights, she could count on seeing her mother's lifeless body sprawled on the floor of their tent, that horrible figure in red glaring down at her. Her mind was less faithful with the other details, but her mother and those awful, murderous brown eyes never changed.

Then, when Katara was exactly eight and a half years old, she had a dream that made all the others pale by comparison. She couldn't seem to wake, and the whole tent shook around her, waking both her brother and Gran-Gran. Sokka was terrified—he'd read about earthquakes in scrolls left behind by Earth Kingdom traders. It wasn't safe to stay inside when the ground shook like this. Still half-asleep, he tried to drag Katara outside, but Gran-Gran stopped him. With a sad shake of her head, Gran-Gran woke Katara, and the ground went still again. And for hours after, Katara cried, nestled between her brother and her grandmother.

* * *

When Katara was nearly eleven, she came back from looking after their neighbor's newborn to hear her father and Gran-Gran arguing. Gran-Gran insisted that the tribe needed its men, and Hakoda replied that the tribe couldn't possibly be more vulnerable than it already was. The Fire Nation could attack at any time, and the Southern Water Tribe had no allies near enough to come to their defense. The only way to prevent another attack was to draw attention elsewhere—the only way to _survive_ another attack was to have allies close at hand. In order to do either, Hakoda had to take the fight north. Straight to the Fire Nation's gates, if possible.

The children had to be protected, Gran-Gran insisted, and when Hakoda refused to sway, the old woman turned to pleading.

 _If you have to leave, take the children.  
Take _your _children.  
Take Katara._

And when her father again refused to yield, Katara sank against the wall of the tent and cried.

As the days grew longer, the men packed the ships to leave. They all agreed with Hakoda—there was nothing to be gained by waiting for the next raid. To protect the tribe, they needed to keep the Fire Nation occupied, and if possible, to bring them down entirely. So as soon as the ice began to clear from the main channels, the warriors left, taking every old man still strong enough to fight and every boy over the age of thirteen. Sokka was twelve years old.

* * *

Though it was impossible to know for certain in the years that passed, it seemed that Hakoda's plan was working. Katara and her brother grew up in peace. Gran-Gran taught Katara all she knew of their tribe, of the waterbenders who had preceded her. Under her grandmother's instruction, Katara learned midwifery and medicine, while Sokka, without teachers of his own, took his sister on as his own student. By the time that she was thirteen, Katara was nearly as good at hunting and fishing as her brother. She taught herself as much waterbending as she could while Sokka tried to pass his fighting abilities on to the younger boys in the village, though she understood better than her brother that neither of them would ever be much good at fighting without a real teacher. Such was the cost of war, Gran-Gran told her. Sokka may be an inelegant fighter, and Katara may have to be satisfied with learning waterbending through experimentation, but at least they were safe. At least, Gran-Gran whispered to her, the invaders hadn't found the waterbender they'd come for.

And then Katara was fourteen. Too old to cling to Gran-Gran's skirts, too young to seek her own path, and too restless to remain in camp _where she was safe_ for another instant. On a cold, bright autumn morning, she went fishing with her brother—to keep him out of trouble, she told Gran-Gran. And from across the field of icebergs, Katara saw a nearly-perfect ball of ice, as large as a ship, and as blue as the sky.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

I'm incredibly grateful to all of you reading my story! It's kind of a slow start, but I'm hoping I grabbed enough interest to keep you coming back as I update. I am and always have been a Zutara supporter, so consider yourself warned: it'll be a long time before we get there, but Zutara is coming. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the prologue (or at least found it interesting enough to visit again when there's more to read). I have some pretty high hopes for where this little story is going, so I hope you all come along for the ride.

Thanks again for reading,

SooperSara

 _PS: As of August 17, 2019, this chapter was revised. What can I say? I'm a perfectionist, and when I decided to reread this thing to figure out what needed to happen in my NEXT chapter, I found a lot of things that bothered me in the first few chapters. Not much is changing story-wise, I'm just making some stylistic adjustments (and frankly, I was both rushed and rusty when I first posted), so bear with me while I do some minor (and not-so-minor) tweaks from here through Chapter 6._


	2. Water: The Boy and the Beast

**Water**

 **The Boy and the Beast**

"Katara, what are you doing?" Sokka leapt out of the canoe after his sister, nearly missing the frozen bank in his hurry.

There was a loud crack as she struck the ice with his club, and Sokka dragged the canoe just far enough on the bank to keep it from drifting away. There was an unmistakable shadowy shape inside of the frozen globe, something like a person. Katara struck the ice again, and a long, glistening crack spread across the surface. Sokka's eyes narrowed as his sister drew the club back again. From the heart of the ice, a faint, blue-white glow appeared, and the figure inside became perfectly clear.

Sokka sprinted toward his sister, and as the club met with the surface of the ball of ice, the crack deepened, and the light grew more intense. He pushed Katara to the ground, throwing one arm over her and the other over his head.

The sound of it was less sharp than Sokka expected—there was a definite crack, but he felt more than heard the rumble deep in the pit of his stomach. The light grew so intense that the glow was visible even through his closed eyelids. There was a blast of air, and a cascade of ice shards rained down on the siblings' backs, and then, in an instant, the world was still again.

"Get off me." Katara shoved her brother's arm aside and scrambled to her feet.

A little indignant, Sokka stood, brushing the snow off of his chest. "In other words, thank you, best brother in the world, for keeping me from being blasted to bits."

Katara shot a glare in his direction, but there was a rustling sound from inside the jagged bowl of ice, and she took a hasty step back.

"What is that?" Katara whispered, eyes wide as the glowing shape moved on the opposite side of the ice.

"Proof that you need to stop messing around with your stupid magic water," Sokka snapped, but he was already angling himself in front of his sister, club raised, as the figure began to climb.

At the crest of the frozen crater, the figure emerged, and Sokka lowered his club a fraction. It was a boy. Younger than either Sokka or Katara, and fairly small in both stature and build. The stranger's eyes turned sharply on Katara, blazing with an ominous blue-white light. And then the light dimmed. The boy went limp and toppled forward.

Katara shoved past her brother in time to catch the boy. Lying in the snow, it evident that the boy didn't belong so far south. He was pale, his head shaven bald, his clothing too brightly colored to blend in with the ice and snow around them, too light to keep out even a gentle summer breeze.

"He's freezing." Katara lowered the boy to the ground stood to pull off her coat.

"Of course he is! He just came out of a block of ice!" Sokka slung his club onto his back and tried to shove his sister's arm back into her coat. "How is it going to help if you freeze to death too?"

Katara ripped her arm free and wrapped the boy in the parka, glaring at Sokka. "I'm not cold. Are you going to help me get him back to camp or not?"

Sokka stared down at her, at the strange blue arrows tattooed on the boy's forehead and hands. "But we don't even know who he is!"

"And that means we should let him die?" Katara stood, glaring at Sokka. She let out a frustrated groan. "Sokka, you are the—"

From inside the icy bowl, there was a deep rumbling sound, almost a growl, and both siblings turned toward it in time to see a shadow moving on the other side of the ice, huge and indistinct in shape.

"Now will you listen the next time I tell you to leave your magical water alone?" Sokka squeaked, but he scooped up the boy without argument and ran, just a few steps ahead of Katara, back to the canoe.

Whatever the creature was, it was massive. As Katara clambered into the canoe and pulled the unconscious stranger onto the bench next to her, the beast let out a roar so loud that Sokka nearly slipped as he pushed the canoe back into the water. Less graceful than usual, he jumped into the boat, landing with a hollow thump in the space between the benches.

"Give me those," Sokka said, reaching for the oars. "I can row faster than you."

Over the crest of the ice, an enormous furry head appeared as the canoe pulled away from the shore. The creature roared again and it reared up, slinging its broad white feet over the jagged rim.

"What is that thing?" Katara asked, her arms wrapped tight around the small stranger's shoulders.

"I don't know," Sokka answered, dragging hard on one of the oars to round a tight bend. "But I bet it was trying to eat your new friend when he got frozen."

As the canoe drifted out of sight, the creature heaved itself out of the bowl of ice and let out an almost melancholy bellow. Then the canoe slipped through a narrow gap in the ice, and she could see no more.

Sokka wove through the maze of icebergs faster than he ever had before, and as the canoe glided through the glassy water, the growls and roars grew fainter behind them. It seemed that the beast wasn't giving up its pursuit, but such a large creature could make very little progress in the tight, twisting channels.

By the time they reached the village, Katara had to listen very hard to hear even a faint rumble from the beast. She hopped out of the canoe ahead of her brother to guide the boat onto the shore, and then between the two of them, they carried the strange boy back to their tent.

The siblings burst in abruptly enough that Gran-Gran didn't have a chance to begin scolding her granddaughter for forgetting—or losing—her coat before the strange boy caught her attention. The old woman's eyes caught the tattoos on the boy's head and hands and the flash of yellow fabric protruding from beneath her granddaughter's coat.

"Bring him here," Gran-Gran said quietly, and while she and Katara tended to the boy, Sokka headed back outside. There was a training session to prepare for, and since fishing had taken less of the day than Sokka had expected, he could use the spare time to create a real challenge for his warriors. Granted, none of the boys were over the age of eight, but there was a war going on. Every potential warrior needed training.

Sokka was putting the finishing touches on his new practice dummy—a crude mound of snow wielding a stick as a spear—when the massive, furry white beast lumbered into camp. The few women and children who were outside yelled in fright and retreated into their tents, but the creature didn't so much glance their direction. It came straight for Sokka.

For a second, Sokka fumbled for his boomerang or his club, but he had left both at home. Instead, he grabbed the stick from the dummy and braced himself to fight. The creature batted the stick aside, came within a foot of Sokka's face, and let out a roar. Then, although the beast was large enough to swallow Sokka whole, it shoved its way past him, knocking the boy into a snowbank as it went.

Bewildered, Sokka scrambled back to his feet, brushing the snow off of his clothes as the creature lumbered between the tents, sniffing at the air. Brandishing the stick, he trailed several paces behind it. The clear path that the beast's dragging tail left behind was quieter than the surrounding snow, and Sokka almost convinced himself that the furry beast didn't know that it was being followed. That illusion didn't last long. As it turned a corner, the beast looked straight back at Sokka, and with a grunt, the creature slapped its broad tail against the ground, sending out a gust so strong that it knocked Sokka into his backside. He yelled in surprise, then clambered back up, covered in snow. Unconcerned, the beast went on, still sniffing.

At a slightly greater distance, Sokka continued trailing the beast clear to the other end of the village. There was something on its back, he realized, something large and boat-like, maybe a saddle. Maybe the creature hadn't been trying to eat the strange boy, maybe it was—Sokka shuddered at the idea—his pet.

At the entrance of the tent, the creature stopped and let out a mournful roar. There was a shuffling sound inside, and Katara poked her head out between the flaps. She shrieked and did her best to close the flaps again, but the creature nosed its way in and sniffed. Its saucer-round eyes landed on the strange boy, still unconscious in a bed of furs, and the creature gave another mournful rumble. Then, without warning, the beast flopped onto its stomach, sending a spray of snow high into the air.

It took a while before the siblings accepted the fact that the creature had no intention either to harm them or to move. After that, nearly half an hour passed before Katara was brave enough to squeeze past the huge face to find her grandmother while Sokka watched over the boy.

When Gran-Gran returned and saw the creature, something like recognition flickered in her faded blue eyes. While Sokka and Katara talked over one another, trying to explain how the creature had followed them back from the iceberg, the old woman stroked the beast's ear, and it let out a satisfied rumble. Gran-Gran hushed her grandchildren and the beast turned its head, curious. After that, the creature allowed Sokka to lead it to an open space at the back of the tent, where it settled onto the ground and promptly fell asleep.

The boy didn't wake that night. And Gran-Gran didn't sleep. By the faint light of an old seal-oil lamp, she watched her grandchildren sleep alongside the small, pale stranger. It should have been impossible. The fact that a child had survived being frozen inside of an iceberg was a wonder, but the boy himself was strange. His clothing, all oranges and yellows, his tattoos, and the creature snoring behind the tent—they were all relics of a time long past. Even in her own childhood, sights like the boy and his beast were nothing more than a distant memory in the minds of the elders.

Sokka snored and rolled onto his side, almost on top of his sister. Katara mumbled something in her sleep and pushed her brother away. And Gran-Gran, sitting cross-legged over them, closed her eyes. She knew what her daughter-in-law would have wanted—Kya had always been something of an optimist—before the raid that had taken her life, she had been privately planning to find a teacher for Katara in the north. There were enough masters in the world to teach the girl to control water, earth, and fire; even a chance that her family could have kept her safe while she learned, but it was all useless if there were no more airbending masters. And so, for years, Gran-Gran had resolved that her granddaughter's safety was more important than the chance that an Avatar with incomplete training might be able to save the world. But now, impossibly, the boy had appeared.

Katara rose with the first light. She seemed disappointed to find the boy still sleeping, but turned her attention quickly to the morning chores. Gran-Gran smiled and told Katara that there was every reason to believe that the boy would wake soon.

And then, while Sokka snored and Katara helped her grandmother prepare breakfast, the boy stirred. His wide brown-gray eyes opened, and he sat, looking around the tent in astonishment. Katara stared back.

"Wow." The boy rubbed his eyes and shoved the furs aside. "Penguin sledding must not have been such a good idea."

Gran-Gran gave the boy a severe look. "Young man, my grandchildren found you frozen inside of an iceberg. Whatever you were doing was an awful idea."

For a second, the boy looked surprised, but before he had a chance to respond, his nose scrunched up, and he let out a sneeze so forceful that he slid several feet backward, and the furs lifted off the ground, landing squarely on Sokka's face. Sokka yelled and flailed himself awake, kicking and punching at the air.

Katara laughed. "I'm Katara," she told the boy.

He smiled back. "I'm Aang."

Scowling groggily, Sokka sat up just long enough to glare at the newcomer. "Great. Just what we needed, another bending freak." And with that, he rolled over and pulled the furs back over his head.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

The story begins! I really appreciate everyone who stopped by to read the prologue, and I'm hoping you'll keep visiting. The next few chapters should be ready to go soon, so keep checking back—I'll be posting a new chapter each Sunday for at least the next few weeks. Right now, I'm trying to figure out how I want to handle introducing some important secondary characters in upcoming chapters, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I can keep my focus on the chapters that need to be written _now_ rather than several months from now. And if you have any comments, reviews are very welcome!

I hope you all have an amazing week!

Thanks for reading,

SooperSara


	3. Water: The Airbending Master

**Water:**

 **The Airbending Master**

"Appa!" Aang threw his arms across the beast's broad nose. The saucer-wide eyes blinked at the boy, and the creature let out a low rumble. "Good job finding me, buddy!" There was another happy roar, and a huge tongue licked Aang's face.

Katara hung back as Aang laughed and stroked the creature behind the ears. "That thing is your pet?"

Aang looked back at her. "Appa's my sky bison. He's better than a pet." Appa rumbled again and sniffed at Aang's tunic. "Come pet him. He loves attention."

Cautiously, Katara approached the bison and rested a hand on the warm, soft ear. Appa turned his head and sniffed Katara once, then flopped onto his side, welcoming a belly rub.

"I've never seen a sky bison before." She touched the bison's leathery stomach. It felt almost like sealskin, just a bit rougher. Appa snorted, and Katara pulled back in surprise.

Aang scratched Appa's chin. "Really? There's lots where I live."

She studied the boy for a second. "You're an airbender, aren't you?"

Aang nodded, then his face lit up. "Do you want to see my glider?" And he leapt effortlessly over Appa to where the massive saddle rested against the snow.

Katara ran around Appa's head in time to see Aang pull a staff from somewhere in the saddle. He lifted it over his head, and wings of fiery orange cloth sprung from either side of the staff. Aang grinned at the look of astonishment on Katara's face.

"Could you teach me?" she asked, then stopped, looking embarrassed. "I mean—Could you show me a few moves? I've never met a real bender before."

Aang lowered the glider, folding the wings back in with a snap. "You're a waterbender?"

Katara nodded. "I'm not very good at it. But Gran-Gran thinks if I had a teacher—"

Aang gave her a strange sideways look. "What about the rest of the waterbenders? The last time I heard, there were more than a hundred masters in the southern tribe."

Katara looked down. Sure, there were other villages, but if there were a hundred adults left between them all, that was it. And not one of them was a waterbender, much less a master. "Maybe there was a long time ago," she conceded. "But not anymore. I'm the last one left."

For a second, Aang frowned. "That can't be right. Just before I left home, the monks were talking about sending me down here to meet some of the masters."

She turned her eyes back to him. He seemed too earnest to be teasing her. "How long ago was that?"

He shrugged. "A week ago? Maybe two?" There was a short pause, and then Aang brightened. "Well, if there aren't any masters here, maybe Appa and I could help you find one."

"I don't know," she answered, pushing a tendril of hair back from her face. It would be a lie if she said she had never considered the possibility. "I've never left home before. I can't just leave."

"Well…" For a second, Aang trailed off. A little boy had emerged from a nearby tent, and stood staring at the newcomer.

"Hey!" Sokka rounded the corner of the tent, arms folded over his chest. He glared at the little boy. "What are you looking at? It's time for training."

"Seriously, Sokka? Do you really think they need to train all day?"

Sokka turned on his sister. "Thanks to your frozen friend there, we lost a whole day of training yesterday. They need to train twice as hard today to make up for it."

Katara groaned, but Aang perked up. "Can I help?"

Sokka grumbled something about benders wasting his time, but he could think of no good reason to refuse Aang's help.

The morning passed in a blur. Every one of Sokka's warriors seemed fascinated by the airbender's antics—Sokka himself was less than thrilled until Aang invented a game to test the boys' aim. Even Sokka had to admit that snowballs hovering in the air made more challenging targets than the shapeless lump of snow that he had built yesterday. It may not have been as disciplined a training session as he would have liked, but he had to admit that the boys to put in more effort than usual. That, however, did not stop him from scowling mightily when he caught Katara mimicking the airbender's motions, sending wild swirls of snow in all directions. Katara stuck her tongue out at her brother. So long as she had a chance to learn from a real bender, she would take it.

* * *

Sokka was the first to see the smoke. When he pointed out the gray plume on the horizon, Katara went pale. Sokka grabbed her by the shoulders and told her to get ahold of herself. They hadn't been prepared the last time the Fire Nation ships came. Today would be different. It had to be.

Aang followed the siblings, confused, as they raced off the spread the word. From the corner of her eye, Katara caught a glimpse of his puzzled expression but there was no time to explain. She darted ahead and burst into the first tent to warn its occupants, then continued down the row, barely noticing when Aang fell behind or when she grew out of breath.

She was halfway through the village when she looked toward the sky again. The plume of smoke was nearer, and a fine haze of smoke and soot was settling over the village, turning the snow a dull gray.

From across the open field at the center of the village, she caught sight of Sokka. He glanced up at the sky too, and his eyes widened. "Come on," Sokka shouted to his sister, and she nodded, turning to sprint back home.

They could smell as well as see the smoke now. Sokka burst into the tent first, followed a few seconds later by Katara. By the time that Aang caught up with them, Sokka had armed himself with his club and boomerang. Aang stood aside, confused, as Katara passed a spear over to her brother and grabbed a second for herself. In their hurry, they didn't hear the footsteps approaching outside, so when Gran-Gran threw open the tent flaps and rushed in, she nearly knocked Aang to the ground. With a yelp, he leapt out of the way, but Gran-Gran didn't seem to notice. She took the spear out of her granddaughter's hands. There was no more time, the old woman said. The ship was landing.

The village was curiously quiet as the ship's black bow opened and rows of red-uniformed men filed out, forming a silent, motionless line facing the villagers. Then, when it seemed that the ship must be nearly empty, a final group of three soldiers—two hulking men flanking a slightly smaller figure—descended.

Katara tried to push her way to where Sokka stood at the front of the crowd, but Gran-Gran held her back. Aang stood beside her, staff in hand, eyes narrowed. Even from the back of the crowd, they could see that the last man off the ship was not much older than Sokka, though there was something undeniably harder in his gaze. The young man turned his head, and Katara saw that there was a livid red scar over his left eye, tapering back into streaks that didn't end until a few inches behind his shriveled, shrunken ear.

At the front of the crowd, Sokka took a step forward, club resting on his shoulder. The young firebender gave him a look of disgust, then stepped down into the snow. Sokka's eyes narrowed.

"Get back on your boat," Sokka ordered. "And I won't have to hurt you."

Glaring straight at Sokka, the other young man gave a signal, and each of the soldiers raised his right hand, producing a hovering tongue of flame. Not breaking eye contact with Sokka, the young firebender jerked his own hand open, and a crimson flame burst from his palm with an audible roar.

Sokka hesitated, then charged forward with a yell, and the young man knocked him aside with a single well-placed kick.

"No one needs to get hurt," the firebender announced in a harsh, gravelly voice. "I'm here for the Avatar."

The villagers stared back in confused silence. Off to the side, Sokka sat up, face covered in snow, and glowered at the soldiers. Katara noticed an uneasy look in Aang's eyes, but before she could speak, Gran-Gran grabbed her by the arm and tried to pull her away from the crowd.

"I know you're hiding him," the young man shouted, and Katara shook her arm loose. "He's an airbender." Katara instinctively grabbed Aang by the arm as the firebender's narrow eyes scanned over the crowd. From his place behind the row of soldiers, Sokka rose to his knees and threw his boomerang. It clipped the back of the young man's head and flew back into Sokka's hand.

Seething, the firebender turned toward Sokka, a ball of fire hovering over his right hand. Katara rushed forward, but Aang reached the front of the crowd first.

"Stop!"

The firebender turned slowly back toward Aang.

Holding his staff at the ready, Aang added, "You said that no one would get hurt."

The young man surveyed Aang, his single eyebrow raised, and a sneer on his lips. "You're the airbender?"

Aang said nothing, but as the row of soldiers advanced on him, he dropped into a waiting stance, staff in his right hand.

The firebender laughed—a single, harsh bark. He raised his hand to halt the other soldiers. "I think I can handle this one alone."

One of the guards leaned closer. "Prince Zuko, the general gave orders—"

Zuko shot a glare at the older man. "You can tell my uncle to stop giving orders. I've got the Avatar and I'm going home."

The guard took a step back as Zuko advanced on Aang. Aang remained at the ready but didn't move a bit until Zuko was only a few steps away. Then, pointing his staff at the center of the young man's chest, Aang nodded in the direction of the soldiers.

"Call them off. I'll only go with you if you leave everyone else alone."

Zuko gave a crooked smirk, but obeyed, dismissing the soldiers with a wave of his hand. Katara watched, heart still pounding, as the men boarded the ship again. When the last soldier had vanished, Aang lowered his staff.

Sokka and Katara watched in dismay as Zuko grabbed Aang roughly by the arm. Though the prince was young, he was muscular, and nearly a foot taller than the airbender.

Katara took a step forward. "If you hurt him, I swear—" Zuko turned on her and she broke off, realizing that she had nothing to threaten him with. She wasn't a fighter. Sokka had always been willing to teach her how to fish, how to handle a boat, even how to hunt, but facing a leopard seal with a spear was very different than facing another human being. There was always waterbending, of course, but her most impressive feats had always been accidental.

"I'll be fine, Katara," Aang said, but almost before the words left his mouth, Zuko was dragging him toward the ship.

"Coward!" Sokka shouted after the retreating prince, and he rushed forward, club raised.

Practically snarling, Zuko flung Aang ahead, and in the same fluid motion, spun, sending a ball of fire at Sokka.

It was too much. At the sight of the flames headed toward her brother, Katara felt a flood of rage like nothing she had ever experienced before. And then the world went astonishingly clear and quiet. Raising one hand, she watched a wall of ice rise to block the firebender's attack. Her gaze drifted up toward Zuko, briefly registering the shock on his pale face before her hands rose again. A powerful, almost visible gust struck the firebender squarely in the chest with such force that he was knocked off his feet and driven back up the ramp onto the ship.

Aang, seizing the opportunity, leapt to his feet and hovered to the ground, twirling his staff over his head. Katara sensed rather than saw his and Sokka's eyes on her as she lifted off the ground in a funnel of swirling water.

Her arms lifted again, and the ship rose visibly on a swell of water. Her palms turned forward, and the swell turned into a wave, pushing the ship away from the shore. She couldn't be sure of how far she drove the ship—the world seemed to move unnaturally slowly—before it slammed stern-first into an icy cliff. For a moment, she remained hovering overhead as a flood of soldiers poured out onto the deck. From the top of the cliff, there was a deep, prolonged cracking, and a mound of snow and ice nearly the size of the ship broke loose. There were shouts, and several of the soldiers dropped to the deck, covering their heads with their arms as half of their ship was buried. Only one man—older and stouter than the rest—looked up. His eyes fixed on Katara.

The next thing Katara was aware of was drifting back to the ground at the edge of the village. At once there was sound again, and her legs were too tired to hold her. She dropped to her knees. From across the snow, she heard her brother shout her name. Her eyes closed.

When she opened them again, she was in the tent, Gran-Gran, Sokka, and Aang all clustered anxiously at her side. Slowly, Katara sat up, only to be bombarded with questions from her brother.

"What was that? Are they gone? For good? You were glowing!" Sokka exclaimed. "Is that supposed to happen? Do all of you bender-y people glow?"

Katara was too tired to sort out the questions in her mind. Instead, she looked to her grandmother. "What's going on, Gran-Gran?"

The old woman sighed. "Oh, my little waterbender." Looking sad, she rested her hands on Katara's shoulders.

Sokka snorted in disbelief. "There's no way that was waterbending. No offense, Katara, but waterbending is just a bunch of fancy splashes. Whatever _that_ was—"

"Airbending," Aang interrupted, his voice little more than a whisper. He met Katara's gaze and corrected himself in a firmer tone. "Some of it was, anyway."

"But Katara's a waterbender!" Sokka said, too loudly. "No one's supposed to be able to bend air _and_ water."

"One person is," Aang replied, his eyes fixed on Katara.

There was an instant of hesitation. "But the Avatar's supposed to be an airbender." Sokka looked from Aang to his sister and back. "Even _I_ know that."

"The Avatar _was_ an airbender." Gran-Gran rose and moved to her granddaughter's side. "Until fourteen years ago."

"Fourteen years?" Aang's eyes widened. "But I—" His voice cut out, and he looked at Katara. It seemed to take an enormous amount of effort, but he finally whispered, "I knew him."

Katara touched his hand sympathetically, but he didn't react. She turned to her grandmother again. "How long have you known?"

Gran-Gran smiled. "Since you were three. Your mother and I saw you set your brother's bed on fire."

"She did what?" Sokka yelped.

Ignoring him, Katara asked, "Who else knows? Does Dad?"

"No. We thought you would be safer if no one else knew that the Avatar was alive. And Hakoda—I love my son, but he was never modest about his children. If I had told him, the whole village would have known in a week." Gran-Gran caught a glimpse of Katara's expression and crouched to take her hand. "I always meant to tell you, little one. But without any airbenders to teach you, there no reason to hurry." The old woman's gaze turned to Aang. "Until now."

At last, Katara smiled. "Would you be my airbending teacher, Aang?"

Aang nodded, not meeting her eyes. "Now we really will have to find you a waterbending master."

"And how are you planning to do that?" Sokka asked sourly. "Maybe you're forgetting that you're still the last waterbender in the South Pole."

"There's another Water Tribe at the North Pole," said Aang, dragging his gaze upward. There was still a distant look in his eyes, but he made an effort to smile. "I'm sure someone there could teach you."

"And how are you planning on getting to the North Pole?" Sokka asked.

Aang shrugged. "I have a flying bison."

Sokka's eyebrows shot upward.

Gran-Gran gave a nod of approval. "Good. And Sokka—"

"I'm going too," Sokka interrupted. Gran-Gran started to say something in reply, but the boy continued. "I know Dad wanted me here to protect the village, but—"

Gran-Gran's expression stopped him short. "And Sokka," she resumed. "Look after your sister."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Thank you so much to everyone who's come this far with me! And to the reviewers on Chapter 1: you made my day! There may have been some _very_ unattractive squealing and dancing when I read your comments. Thank you for the feedback—I'm definitely continuing with this story, so please keep coming back!

It feels great to have most of our main characters introduced now. I apologize if things have been a little slow-moving up to this point, but with Team Avatar leaving the South Pole (and with Zuko and Iroh coming into the spotlight), the pace should be picking up soon. Chapter 3 should be ready to publish next Sunday morning, and with any luck, I should have Chapter 4 ready the following week (also, if you want a more in-depth look at when updates are coming, visit my profile! I've added a section dedicated to the status of future chapters). Again, I really appreciate all of the readers who've stopped by, and feel free to leave reviews! Feedback helps keep me motivated!

Thanks for reading,

SooperSara


	4. Water: The Last Avatar

**Water:**

 **The Last Avatar**

"So what was he like?" Katara asked, leaning over the front of the saddle, face resting on her palms.

"Who?" Aang asked, glancing back over his shoulder. They had just lifted off the ground, and the children below ran after them, laughing and shouting, as Appa flew a full circle around the village before setting off to the north.

"The last Avatar." Katara's stomach dropped as they sailed over a ridge, and she clamped her hands on the saddle. "You said you knew him."

"Oh." Aang looked forward again, and she saw his grip tighten on the reins. "He was a kid. I guess he was just—normal."

"Hold on a second," Sokka said, sliding forward a little. "You knew the last Avatar when he was a kid?"

Aang nodded. "Yeah."

Sokka narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure he wasn't actually a short old man or something?"

"I'm sure," Aang answered, twisting himself completely sideways. "He was my age."

Sokka looked at Katara, and she raised her eyebrows back at him. Leaning back, he folded his arms. "Well, I hate to break it to you, Aang, but you were frozen a lot longer than fourteen years."

"What do you mean?" Aang asked.

"Aang, the Avatar's been missing for a hundred years," Katara answered. "He would have been an old man by the time he died. So if you knew him as a kid—"

"Then I must have been frozen for a hundred years," Aang finished for her, staring out over the frozen landscape. "Wow. I don't feel like I'm a hundred and twelve years old."

There was a minute of silence as Appa sailed higher. The village was still visible behind them, but the individual tents were growing less distinct by the second. Though she was certain that Gran-Gran was still there, watching them disappear into the sky, Katara could no longer see her, or even pick out which tent was theirs. Sokka stared back at the village for a while too, then turned to the side.

"Whoa," Sokka blurted, his attention caught by a plume of blackish smoke. He leaned over the side of the saddle, staring toward the wrecked Fire Nation ship. "Did you do that?"

Katara followed his gaze to where the firebenders swarmed over the deck of the ship, working furiously to clear the mounds of snow and ice. She had driven the ship farther from the village than she thought, and from this angle, it was apparent that part of the metal hull was crumpled beyond recognition. She nodded.

"Nice work," Sokka commented, watching for a few more seconds before settling back against the rear of the saddle. "That jerk deserved it for attacking me."

Katara turned toward him, raising an eyebrow. "You attacked him first."

"He was trying to kidnap Aang!" Sokka's voice slid higher, and he folded his arms over his chest. "Besides, _you_ did that weird Avatar-y thing."

She scowled. "Are you really sure you want to complain about the way I saved your life?"

Sokka raised his hands in submission. "All I'm saying is if that guy shows up again, he's going to be angrier about his boat than a little bump on his head."

Katara turned around again. She hated to admit it, but Sokka had a point. Intentional or otherwise, she had practically destroyed a warship. And though she knew next to nothing about Zuko, she knew that it took a lot of dedication to make it to the South Pole. If he had already come this far, he would think nothing of chasing her to the North Pole and back again simply because she was the Avatar. Now that she had wrecked his ship too—Katara leaned on the front rim of the saddle, trying not to think about it.

"So, were you friends with the Avatar?" From the corner of her eye, she saw the fields of ice below them growing less familiar. In a matter of minutes, they would be farther from home than either she or Sokka had ever ventured.

Sokka groaned. "Give it a rest, Katara. The kid just found out that he's a hundred years older than he thought he was."

"And I just found out that I have hunreds of past lives," Katara retorted, but her voice softened when she addressed Aang again. "If you don't want to talk about it right now, that's okay."

"No, it's fine," Aang answered, turning himself all the way around to meet Katara's gaze.

"Shouldn't you be watching where we're going?"

Aang grinned and patted the wooly white neck beneath him. "Appa knows the way."

"To what?" Sokka asked, practically lying on his back now. He stretched his legs out as far as they would go, kicking Katara in the process. She kicked back.

"The Southern Air Temple," Aang answered. "There's no better place in the world to learn about the last Avatar." He turned forward and added, a little quieter, "And I haven't been home in a hundred years."

"Isn't that a little out of the way?" Sokka grumbled, pulling his legs out of his sister's reach.

Aang looked back one more time. "We're going to the other end of the world, Sokka. Nothing is out of our way."

* * *

From the dock, Zuko glowered at the crushed stern of his ship. The repairs would take more time than he could afford to spare. It had already taken his men most of a day to dig themselves free. The ship was still mostly operable, though several of the crew's chambers had been destroyed, and two nights of hard sailing had finally brought them to a port where repairs could be made. His fists clenched. By the time they were able to leave again, the Avatar and that ridiculous flying beast would be days ahead of him.

"Prince Zuko!" His uncle called from the shore. "This fine gentleman tells me that there's a tea shop in this town! Why don't we pay it a visit while we wait?"

Zuko whirled to face his uncle. The "gentleman" was a shabbily-dressed, crooked-nosed Earth Kingdom peasant. At best, he was a dock worker or a fisherman. Zuko sneered. "I'm not leaving unless it's on my ship."

The old man's eyes went stern. "Patience, Prince Zuko." He turned toward one of the crew. "Lieutenant Jee, when did these fine men say our repairs would be finished?"

The lieutenant looked up. "Midmorning tomorrow, at the soonest, General Iroh."

Iroh smiled at his nephew again. "I believe we have a little time to spare, Prince Zuko. A walk would do you good."

Zuko knew that tone too well—there would be no arguing with Iroh. He turned to the lieutenant. "Tell these ignorant peasants that I want the repairs finished by nightfall," he ordered, then stalked off toward the village.

The path was narrow and rutted, cutting through a tangled, stunted meadow. At some points, the ruts turned to holes, almost knee-deep, and filled to the brim with slimy, greenish-brown water. Zuko sidestepped one of the puddles, and the thorns at the side of the path snagged on his pants. Grumbling, he stopped to disentangle himself, and some of the mud gave way under his feet. He slid up to his ankles into the foul-smelling slime.

Iroh hopped lightly over the puddle, and stopped to wait for his nephew, smiling. "It is a lovely morning, isn't it, Prince Zuko?"

Zuko didn't so much as look in the general's direction. Pulling his feet out of the mud, he stomped on ahead, leaving a trail of murky footprints behind him.

Iroh kept pace with his nephew easily. "Have you heard the crew's latest gossip?" the old man asked.

Zuko stared straight ahead, jaw tightening. "They know better than to speak out of turn around me."

"What a pity," his uncle continued, his voice perfectly languid. "Then you have missed some very interesting conversation, Prince Zuko."

"I don't care, Uncle."

"Really? I thought that information about the Avatar would catch your interest." Still, the old man's voice was maddeningly calm.

"I was humiliated by a girl!" Zuko snapped. "There's nothing more to say about it."

"Ah, but if you had heard the men this morning, you might think differently, Prince Zuko." There was something like amusement in Iroh's voice. "At breakfast this morning, Private Chu told me that he was surprised that such a small boy could do so much damage to the ship."

It took an instant, but when he caught his uncle's meaning, Zuko stopped walking. "What?" he asked, voice low.

Iroh didn't quite smile, but there was a look of satisfaction in his eyes. "It seems," he said, facing his nephew, hands folded across his large stomach, "that your entire crew believes that the airbending boy was responsible for the damage."

He turned a glare on his uncle. "How is that supposed to help me?" Zuko snarled, and turned toward the town again.

Iroh caught up with him in a few strides. "Knowledge is a powerful thing, Prince Zuko. You must use every advantage wisely."

* * *

"We're home, buddy!" Aang announced, leaping to the ground almost before Appa landed. The bison roared in response.

Katara hopped over the edge of the saddle, landing lightly on the ground. Sokka, muttering incoherently, tumbled out after her.

"It's beautiful," Katara said.

Sokka scowled blearily up the mountain. "It's great. Really. But you know what would've made it better? If you two hadn't decided to wake me up at the buttcrack of dawn."

Aang turned brightly to the older boy. "We had to get here early. If you're going to see everything, we need the whole day."

"There'd better be food here somewhere, that's all I'm saying," Sokka answered as they began up the winding path. "Getting up early is bad enough. But skipping breakfast—"

Katara raised an eyebrow at her brother. "We have the chance to explore an Air Temple, and you're complaining about breakfast?"

He shrugged. "I don't ask for much. Just three meals a day and plenty of sleep."

She turned, hands on her hips, to tell him off, but from farther up the path Aang called, "Come on, guys! You have to see everything!"

The siblings caught up, and they continued up the mountain together, Aang pointing out and explaining every new sight. The farther they walked, though, the more uneasy Katara felt. It was quiet. Aang spoke of activity and excitement and monks gathering on every terrace, but there was no sign of life anywhere that she could see. She and Sokka had grown up on stories of the war, and every story agreed—the Fire Nation had wiped out the airbenders in less than a month. Whatever Aang was expecting to find here had been gone for a century.

"And we used to play airball down there," Aang said, pointing down to a grid of vertical wooden posts. He paused for a moment, looking sad.

Katara glanced at her brother. Sokka's jaw was clenched tight. For an instant, their eyes met, then Sokka noticed something over her shoulder, and he nudged her. She followed his gaze to a scorch mark on one of the walls.

"It's exactly the same," Aang continued, still facing the airball court. "Except for the weeds. It's like everybody just left."

Katara stared at the blackened stones, unable to respond. The mark was only as high as her waist, and it was oddly-shaped, as though a firebender's attack had found its mark and left behind a shadow of what it struck. Taking a step closer to the wall, she crouched to examine the shape from a different angle. Her stomach turned over, and she covered her mouth with her hand. Though it was distorted, the silhouette unmistakably belonged to a child.

Sokka joined Aang at the opposite side of the path. "You know, it's been a hundred years and the war's been going on ever since you left. The Fire Nation probably made it here a long time ago."

Aang shook his head. "I don't think so. The Air Temples are the safest places in the world." He looked up at Sokka. "Something else must have happed." He turned his back on the airball court, and Katara instinctively stepped in front of the burnt wall and forced a smile.

"So where am I supposed to learn about the last Avatar?"

Brightening a bit, Aang pointed to the temple's highest spire. "Up there."

"Can we see it?"

Sokka frowned at her, but she pretended not to notice.

Aang broke into a full grin. "Follow me!" He took off up the path.

Sokka stared after Aang for a second, then elbowed Katara in the ribs. "What are you trying to do?"

Katara shook her head. "I don't know."

"How long do you think you can keep him from figuring it out?" Sokka hissed.

She didn't respond. Instead, she ran up the path after the airbender. "Aang, wait up!"

With an audible groan, Sokka followed.

* * *

"Just pick one!" Zuko snapped as his uncle weighed a bag of tea leaves in his hand for what seemed like the tenth time.

"It's so difficult to decide." Iroh picked up a second bag and weighed it against the first. "I don't want my tea to go stale, but I certainly don't want to run out before we reach the next harbor." He switched the bags to opposite hands and stared intently at them.

Zuko clenched his jaw. This was a waste of time. He should be back on his ship already—even if the repairs weren't complete, he should be poring over maps, planning their next move. The Avatar had a head start, but that was nothing that a few days of hard sailing couldn't make up for. If they could just get out of this wretched tea shop.

"Hmmmm…" The old man seemed to be pondering a third bag of tea now.

With a growl of frustration, Zuko grabbed the largest bag he could reach. "Here. Just take this one and let's go."

Iroh looked at the bag in his nephew's arms, and his eyes went wide with horror. "Never!"

"Why not? It's tea, and you won't run out for the next six months."

"That is nothing more than glorified grass clippings." Before Zuko could respond, Iroh added, "And a potent remedy for constipation."

At that, Zuko went a little red and replaced the bag on the shelf.

It seemed like another hour passed before Iroh finally settled on a bag of tea—the first one he had examined—and paid the unwashed merchant at the counter. The pair had scarcely left the shop when a deep voice greeted them by name.

"General Iroh. Prince Zuko." The man, dressed in a Fire Navy uniform, bowed to them both. Zuko grudgingly returned the gesture.

"Captain Zhao. It is an honor to meet you again." Iroh replied.

"Commander," Zhao corrected. "And the honor is all mine." He turned his attention to the prince. "What brings such important guests to my humble base?"

It took all his effort to keep from scowling outright, but Zuko met the commander's gaze. "My ship needed a few repairs."

"I believe I saw that," Zhao said, smiling a little too smugly. "I understand you had a run-in with the Avatar."

Zuko's temper flared. "Where did you get an idea like that?"

Zhao's smile didn't falter. "It's remarkable how three years serving a disgraced prince can make a man recognize real authority when he sees it. Your crew were more than happy to explain the damages to me." He fixed Zuko with a more intense stare. "Unless, of course, you would have me believe that thirty honorable men were mistaken about what they saw." He turned to Iroh before the prince had a chance to respond. "Would you gentlemen join me for a drink?"

"We need to get back to my ship," Zuko answered sharply.

"Manners, Prince Zuko," Iroh said in an undertone. "We would be honored," he added, bowing to the Commander.

Zhao bowed in return and turned to lead them away.

"Why did you agree to this, Uncle?" Zuko growled at the old man.

Iroh smiled, his usual placid expression back in place. "Where better to gain information?"

* * *

The uppermost sanctuary was impressive, to say the least. Its spire rose too high to see from the path, and its massive wooden door was ornate—and locked. When Sokka caught up with the other two, looked skeptically at the door.

"So a door is supposed to teach Katara all about the last Avatar, huh?" He grabbed his sister's shoulders and pretended to hide behind her. "Oh, mighty Avatar, teach us the secrets of the door!"

Katara shook him off. "What's inside, Aang?"

The younger boy turned back with a smile. "I don't know. But the monks used to tell me that it held the history of all the past Avatars." Looking at Katara, he asked, "Are you ready?"

A little nervous, she nodded. Aang turned on the spot, sending two blasts of air into the openings on the door. With a low whistle, the locks turned, and the doors swung open.

It was dark inside, and it took a moment before Katara could make out the interior of the sanctuary. There were statues. Hundreds of them. She and Aang glanced at one another and slowly made their way inside.

Katara followed the spiraling aisle between the statues, staring in awe at the stoic faces. Water Tribe, Earth Kingdom, Fire Nation, Air Nomad. The pattern repeated over and over until, at last, she reached the last statue in the center of the spiral. She stopped, studying the likeness of the firebender—a tall, bearded old man with a stern expression.

"Avatar Roku," Aang said, coming to stand beside Katara. "He was the Avatar before m—" He stopped for a second, then continued, "My friend."

"You were a firebender?" Sokka asked, stopping at Katara's other side. "That explains a lot."

Katara turned to glare at him. "What does that mean?"

Sokka shrugged. "You have a knack for destroying things."

"Sokka, he died years before the war started. And didn't it ever occur to you that the only things I ever broke were things that _you_ made?"

He ignored the last bit, and wandered back a few statues to the last waterbending Avatar. "Who was this guy? He looks a little bit like Dad."

Katara and Aang joined him.

"That's Avatar Kuruk," Aang answered without hesitation.

"Did the monks teach you about the Avatars?" Katara asked.

Aang shrugged. "I guess so. I don't remember learning about them, but I remember their names." He stepped to the side to face the previous airbender in the cycle. "But I know a lot about _her_. We celebrated Yangchen's Festival every year when I still lived here."

Katara smiled and moved back to the center of the spiral. The blank space where the last Avatar should have stood bothered her. "What about your friend?" she called back to Aang. "Where's his statue?"

It was dim, but she thought she saw Aang redden a little. "I don't know. You said that the war started around the time he disappeared. Maybe there just wasn't time to make one."

Unconvinced, she stared at the empty space. There was a circular mark where the next statue should have stood, a polished disc of a stone in a slightly darker color than the rest of the floor. She crouched to feel the edges of the disc, but it was perfectly smooth.

"What are you doing, Sokka?"

Katara turned back in time to see her brother sheepishly stepping away from the statue of Avatar Kuruk. "I just wanted to see if it would move."

"Why would you do that?" Aang demanded. "This place is sacred."

"I don't know. It just seemed like a room full of statues wasn't telling us much." When Aang continued glaring, Sokka turned to his sister for support. "Right, Katara? I mean, it's neat, but it doesn't really tell us anything about the last Avatar."

She stood. "He's right, Aang. This was a great idea, but I don't know much more than I did yesterday." He looked crestfallen, and she smiled, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Why don't you show us a little more of the temple? We can come back here later."

Aang grinned at the suggestion and led them outside again. There was a courtyard a short distance below the sanctuary, and Katara listened to Aang's stories about all the monks whose statues stood there while Sokka poked his head into every door and window he could find, searching for food. Aang was telling her about one of his old teachers, a man named Gyatso, when Sokka joined them again, and a loud chittering noise caught their attention.

Sokka drew out his boomerang. "What was that?"

Aang darted around the older boy and started to laugh. "It's a lemur!" he said, a little too loudly, and the small white creature fled. "Come here, little guy!" Aang shouted, running after it.

"Aang!" Katara broke into a sprint, following a few paces behind Sokka. She raced down the winding path between the deserted huts, in close pursuit of the boys until she lost sight of them around a corner. She slowed when the lemur bounded out of a hut. Neither Sokka nor Aang followed. Cautiously, Katara went the open doorway and peered in.

Death. There was no other word for what waited in the ruined hut—a mound of skeletons, still in Fire Nation armor, lay piled across the first half of the room. Then there was a patch of bare, cracked and overgrown stone floor, and a single skeleton, propped partially upright, clothed in oranges and browns. One of the monks.

"Gyatso," Aang said quietly, a tremor running through his voice. He stood over the fallen monk, motionless.

Sokka stepped toward the younger boy and was about to rest a hand on his shoulder when Aang's head snapped around, his eyes huge and glowing, like they had been at the iceberg, only brighter. There was rage written all over his face as his eyes turned downward, fixing on the remains of the firebenders.

Slowly, Sokka retreated toward the door as Aang's hands came together, forming an orb of swirling air that lifted him off the ground. The rest of the air in the ruined hut began to swirl too, and Sokka bolted out, grabbing his sister by the arm and dragging her behind the sturdiest-looking wall just before a blast of air blew away what remained of the roof.

Over the roar of the air, Katara had to yell to make herself heard. "Sokka, what's going on?" But before the words had fully left her mouth, Aang hovered through the hut's now-open roof. She, along with her brother, crouched as with a powerful sweep of his arms, Aang brought the walls of the hut crashing inward.

Katara threw her arms over her head as a hail of pebbles rained down on them, then rose just enough to see Aang over the pile of rubble. The tattoos on his hands and his head were glowing as fiercely as his eyes, and he remained hovering in a sphere of air, which had grown so large that it was beginning to tear bits of the nearby huts apart. She could feel his rage in the pit of her stomach.

Sokka grabbed her wrist. "Oh, no you don't. You don't get to go glowy too, just because he is!"

She turned to look at her brother. She could still feel the wind, but there was also an almost palpable clarity to her thoughts. Her heart was no longer racing, and she could see perfectly, even though her hair was coming loose from its braid and whipping across her face.

"I'm going to calm him down."

Dimly, she heard Sokka protesting as she stood, but she didn't bother to glance back. It was as if something entirely foreign had taken control of her, and she approached Aang. A portion of a nearby stone wall broke loose, and without so much turning her head, she raised an arm and thrust it away.

"Aang," she said firmly, but without raising her voice. There was no possible way that he could have heard her over the wind, but he turned anyway, glaring down at her, his eyes bright and empty. The wind slowed a little. "You need to stop." His eyes narrowed. "You can't change what happened to them." At that, his scowl deepened, and Aang began to rise higher as the wind intensified again.

There was a yell from behind her, and a little of the calm that had taken hold of her mind faded as she turned back toward her brother. Sokka was clinging to what little remained of the wall, trying to shield his face with one arm. "If you're gonna calm him down, now would be great!" he shouted.

* * *

Zhao's tent was red and regal—presumptuous, Zuko thought, for a man who had only recently been promoted to Commander.

Iroh breathed in the steam from the teacup in his hands. "Ginseng. You have good taste, Commander Zhao."

Zhao nodded and shot a look at Zuko. "And how do you like it, Prince Zuko?"

Zuko glared back. "I don't like tea." He felt his uncle's gaze turn his direction, but he ignored it. "What do you want, Commander?"

Zhao gave a cold laugh. "Isn't the honor of sharing tea with a prince and a general enough?"

The only answer Zuko offered was an angry stare.

"Very well." Zhao set his tea down and stood to face a map hanging from the tent wall. "You found the Avatar." He clasped his hands behind his back and paused a moment, seeming to half-expect an answer. "But you failed to capture him." With that, he faced the prince again.

Zuko remembered the suddenness of the girl's attack, the overwhelming power of the gust that had blown him back into his own ship. "The Avatar was more powerful than I expected."

Zhao leaned forward, resting his hands on the table. "A child." The contempt was evident in his voice. "A twelve-year-old boy bested the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation."

Zuko's anger was bubbling, barely within his control. "The Avatar took me by surprise," Zuko said, voice dangerously even. "It won't happen again."

"I should think not." Zhao straightened, folding his arms. "Because from now on, I will handling the hunt for the Avatar."

Zuko leapt up. "Finding the Avatar is _my_ mission."

"Prince Zuko," Iroh said warningly,

"Clearly it's too difficult for you to manage," Zhao snapped.

"My father told me—"

"Your father sent you on an impossible mission. If he had thought that there was any chance the Avatar was still alive, he never would have entrusted _you_ with that responsibility."

"You don't know what you're talking about!"

Iroh stood and placed a hand on his nephew's shoulder. "Perhaps we should see how the repairs are going, Prince Zuko." Zuko turned on him, eyes wild, but Iroh didn't waver. The old man faced Zhao and gave a bow, ignoring the glares from both directions. "Thank you for the tea, Commander. Your hospitality is much appreciated."

Zuko was still fuming as his uncle led him out of the tent. They were scarcely out of earshot before the words burst out. "I won't let Zhao get away with this."

Iroh stepped in front of his nephew and stopped dead in his tracks. "What are you planning to do about it, Prince Zuko? Challenge him to a duel?"

Zuko began to respond, but his uncle cut him off.

"Think, Prince Zuko. Remember what happened the last time you dueled with a master."

The prince's scowl deepened. "I won't lose this time." He tried to shoulder past his uncle, but the old man refused to budge.

"Zhao can't stop you from looking for the Avatar. But if you choose to fight, you may lose the only advantage you have."

Zuko's jaw remained tight, but he met his uncle's gaze. The girl had beaten him easily, had wrecked his ship without a thought, but there was the airbending boy to worry about too. Zuko remembered the way that the boy had stepped forward, without denial, without fighting, when he had asked for the Avatar to show himself. It was too easy. The boy hadn't been surprised at the demand—even days later, something about that seemed wrong. Letting out a slow breath, he tried to unclench his fists.

"I need to capture both of them."

Iroh gave a single, grave nod. "Plan you next moves wisely, Prince Zuko."

* * *

Katara turned back to Aang again, suddenly less sure of herself. The odd clarity had abandoned her, and she could think of nothing to say. She remembered seeing her own mother's lifeless body as clear as day—no words could fill that kind of emptiness. Instead, she reached out toward him. His eerily wide eyes turned her direction, and Katara tried not to let her fear show on her face.

"You're not alone, Aang."

Slowly, very slowly, the wind began to subside, and the boy drifted downward. The instant his feet touched the ground, Aang went limp, and Katara scrambled over the rubble to reach him. She threw her arms around him, and Aang sagged into her side. Sokka hesitated until it was clear that Aang was back to normal, but in a matter of seconds, he was sliding over mounds of crumbled wall to join them.

"So, this is just a guess," Sokka said, brushing bits of stone and dirt from his coat. "But glowing isn't normal for airbenders either, is it?"

Aang shook his head and pulled away from Katara. He wiped his eyes.

"You were the Avatar," she said quietly. "Well, I guess you still are. Why didn't you say anything?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I never wanted to be the Avatar. I guess when I found out that you were the new one, I thought that the monks were wrong about me. Or maybe they were right, but it somehow passed on to you." Letting out a slow breath, he looked at the destruction around him. "I'm really sorry, guys."

"For what?" Sokka turned in a full circle, surveying the damage. "You only destroyed what, six houses? That's completely normal." He gave Aang a crooked smile.

Aang managed to return the smile, but only for a moment. "I just can't believe that they're all gone. I never thought that anything bad could happen at the Air Temples. But if the Fire Nation made it here—" He broke off, turning toward the plunging valley. "I'm the only one left."

Sokka rested a hand on the younger boy's shoulder. "You have us."

Aang looked between the two siblings. Katara smiled. "Exactly. You're part of our family now."

"Wait a second," Sokka interrupted, pointing at them both. "This means that you two are sort of like the same person, right?" Aang and Katara glanced at one another, and he continued, "So that means that I'm kind of Aang's brother too."

"Sokka, that's what I just said," Katara replied, exasperated.

"But seriously, though! Does this make me related to all the Avatars? Because if this whole reincarnation thing works the way I think it does, then I'm the Avatar's older brother _twice_."

Katara folded her arms. "Technically, Aang's older than you."

"Yeah, well, technically he's been dead for fourteen years too, but you don't see that stopping him." Sokka seemed to realize what he'd said a second too late, and he reddened. "Sorry, Aang. But it's true."

Aang smiled. "That's okay. I figured that part out a while ago. But you can be the older brother if you want."

They began the trek back down the mountainside as the sun was beginning to sink toward the west.

"You guys realize," Sokka said as they walked, "That we've been up here all day, and we haven't stopped to eat once."

Katara rolled her eyes. "Maybe if you hadn't complained so much about having to wake up this morning, you would have had time to eat breakfast."

"Maybe if you two weren't in such a huge hurry, I wouldn't have had to complain so much! Really guys, if you're going to make me skip meals, we're going to have a problem."

They rounded a corner and stopped short. The lemur was waiting in the middle of the path for them. The siblings fell silent as Aang took a small step forward.

"Hey, little guy," Aang said, crouching and holding out a hand.

The lemur looked from Aang's outstretched hand to his face. It chattered at him, then dashed to the side of the path and up a tree. Katara stepped forward, watching in curiosity as the lemur rustled around in the leaves. She saw its tiny, delicate fingers wrap around a peach, and then without warning, the peach went flying straight at Sokka. He yelped but managed to catch the fruit as the lemur leapt down from the branch and onto Aang's head. The lemur chattered and shrieked at Sokka from its new perch, and Aang grinned.

"He heard you complaining, Sokka. He's trying to make friends with you," Aang said, and reached up to pet the lemur.

Sokka looked suspiciously from the peach to the lemur and back again, then took a bite. At the same instant, the lemur let out a screech and leapt at Sokka, taking a large bite from the opposite side of the peach while it was still in Sokka's mouth. Sokka screamed in surprise and batted at the lemur, but it had already retreated behind Aang's legs.

Katara laughed, and Aang bent down to scoop up the lemur. "You're coming with us too, Momo," the airbender said with a smile.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Well, this was by far the most I've pushed my self-imposed deadlines so far, and I really hope that the work I put into this chapter paid off. Not only was this the longest chapter I've written so far, it was also generally a beast to edit. Pacing two separate storylines against each other is a pain, but I hope you all like it! Writing Zuko and Iroh is a ton of fun, so I'm glad they're finally getting their own time in the story. More of that is coming in future chapters!

I'm still on track to keep up with weekly updates for a little while longer, so please come back if you enjoy what you've been reading so far! And please feel free to leave reviews—getting feedback really does make it easier to motivate myself to keep writing and editing. I appreciate the support I've gotten so far, and I hope you all keep visiting!

Thanks for reading,

SooperSara

PS: For anyone who's been here since the beginning, I'm changing my chapter numbering a little. Since there wasn't a good way to include the prologue and still call the first _real_ chapter "Chapter 1", I've decided to stop giving myself headaches over it and just go with the site's automatic numbering. I'm probably the only person that this will really matter to, but I figured I'd give an explanation in case there is any confusion. Thanks again!


	5. Water: The Refugee: Part 1

**Water**

 **The Refugee: Part 1**

Narrowing her eyes, Katara slowly raised her arms. A swell of water rose after them and broke free from the ocean, forming a hovering orb. Clenching her jaw in concentration, she raised the ball higher and separated her hands, trying to divide the water into two parts. Instead, she lost control entirely, and the water collapsed on top of her. With a yell of frustration, she wrung out her dripping braid.

From behind her, Sokka snickered. "Now you know how it feels!"

Scowling, she turned back toward him. Sokka was sitting idly in the sand, tossing his boomerang from one hand to the other. Focusing with all her might, she drew a stream of water from the edge of the ocean and formed it into a sphere. Then, with a broad sweep of her arm, she sent the ball sailing across the beach and let it drop onto Sokka's head. When he spluttered and tried to dry his face with the sleeve of his coat, she smiled. Though she hadn't mastered much yet, she could usually manage to irritate her brother.

As she turned back toward the water, Sokka said sourly, "Aren't you going to watch Aang? He's been trying to get your attention for ages."

Reluctantly, she looked out to where the boy bobbed in the waves—sure enough, he was waving energetically at her. When Katara waved back, Aang cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled something to her.

She glanced back at Sokka. "Any idea what he's saying?"

He shrugged. His hair was soaked, but his coat had escaped with only a few wet patches. "No idea. But I think he's been trying to talk to us since he went out there."

Katara waved to Aang again. Whatever he was trying to say, she was sure that he would want an answer of some kind.

Sokka stood and shook as much water out of his hair as he could before coming to join her at the edge of the water. "You know," he said in an undertone. "I think we're still lost. We probably passed wherever the giant koi live a week ago, and Aang was just too embarrassed to admit that he couldn't find it."

"Maybe." Katara folded her arms. A twig snapped in the undergrowth behind them, and she looked back in time to see a small face peering out of the bushes. She grabbed her brother's arm. "Sokka, look!" There was a flurry of movement, and the child disappeared.

"What?" Sokka turned too late to see anything out of the ordinary.

"A little boy was watching us."

"So? At least he wasn't watching us sleep the way you and Aang watch me."

"We don't watch—" Katara's retort broke off when she saw Aang yelling to them again. This time, she could almost hear his voice, though his words were still impossible to distinguish. She waved again, and as if that were the sign Aang was waiting for, he began swimming toward shore.

"We don't watch you sleep," she finished. "Aang just thinks it's funny that you always mumble before you wake up."

"I don't mumble!" Sokka exclaimed, his voice sliding upward.

Katara patted his shoulder. "Keep telling yourself that, big brother."

Aang reached the shore a short time later, tired and disappointed.

"No luck finding the elephant koi?" Katara asked.

Aang shook his head.

"Maybe we're not at the right place," Sokka suggested. Katara elbowed him in the side. "Hey! It's just a thought."

"No," said Aang. "This is the right place. I remember it from when I was little." He walked back to their camp. "Maybe it's the wrong time of year," he called with his tunic halfway over his head. "And anyway, I can try again tomorrow."

There was another cracking sound from the undergrowth, and Katara turned, half expecting to see the little boy spying on them again. Instead, several green-clad figures rushed out of the bushes, and before Katara had time to react, she was flat on her stomach, a scratchy brown sack over her head, and she could hear both Aang and Sokka struggling. There was a hollow thump, and Sokka's voice stopped, then a second later, Aang yelled, "Wait! I don't have my pants on yet!"

A second thump followed, and everything was quiet.

* * *

"Ready?" Iroh's voice was grave.

Staring across at his opponent, Zuko gave a single nod. Lieutenant Jee certainly wasn't the strongest firebender he had ever encountered, but as sparring partners went, he was the best Zuko could hope for on this miserable boat. Jee nodded too.

"Then begin," said Iroh.

Zuko struck first—a series of quick punches sent a series of fist-sized fireballs at the lieutenant's head. With a sweep of his arm, Jee threw out a long scythe-like flame which blocked the prince's attacks. He produced another sweeping flame, which Zuko deflected with a powerful kick.

"Focus, Prince Zuko," Iroh said.

Snarling, Zuko ducked under one of Jee's fireballs and aimed his own attack low enough that the lieutenant would have to leap aside to avoid it.

"You aren't helping, Uncle!" Zuko shouted as he darted to the side to attack from a new angle.

"Focus! You cannot draw power from your breath if you are using your breath to speak."

Lieutenant Jee swung himself around, forcing Zuko to adjust his angle again, and threw a series of fiery punches. The prince ducked under the barrage and rolled out of Jee's reach before springing to his feet again and unleashing a towering wall of flame. Jee sidestepped the attack, then advanced, sending wave after wave of fire at his opponent. Grunting with effort, Zuko managed to disperse the flames before they reached him, but each wave drove him another step backward. Too late, he realized that Jee had cornered him. Grinning, the lieutenant fixed his stance, but before he was able to attack again, Zuko let out a bellow and shot two identical fireballs—one aimed at the lieutenant's left knee, the other at his right shoulder. Jee was in no position to deflect the attack, and he dodged, throwing himself off balance. Zuko aimed one last attack at the lieutenant's head, and Jee fell unceremoniously backward, leaving Zuko standing over the older man in triumph.

Iroh was unimpressed. "I have found, Prince Zuko, that it is unnecessary to yell before attacking."

"I won, Uncle. What are you complaining about?"

"You were careless," the general replied. "You allowed yourself to be cornered. And you continue to neglect your basics."

"I don't care about the basics! I need to capture the Avatar, and I can't do that with breathing exercises."

Iroh clasped his hands together, gazing evenly at his nephew. "How do you expect to master more advanced forms when you cannot maintain focus on your breathing?"

Zuko gave a roar of frustration and shot a fireball over the ship's railing.

Calm as ever, Iroh watched the flames disappear in the air. "As I have said before, Prince Zuko, fire comes from the breath, as does life. Without life, there can be no fire."

Zuko scowled. That made no sense, but he should be used that by now. Rather than argue with Iroh, he turned to Lieutenant Jee. "Have you ever heard a firebending master worry so much about breathing and meditation?"

Jee hesitated, glancing in the general's direction.

"No," he admitted. "I haven't." Zuko turned triumphantly toward his uncle, but before he could speak, Jee went on. "But I was never trained until I joined the military. I was a grown man when I met my first master, and he was nothing in comparison with General Iroh." The lieutenant turned pointedly toward Zuko. "Most of us weren't fortunate enough to have tutors from the time we were infants."

Zuko's eyes narrowed, and he took a small step toward Jee. "What does that mean?"

"It means, _Prince_ Zuko, that if fighting a man who entered the military with no training is still a challenge for a prince who has been trained by one of the best masters in the world, there might be a reason why that master insists on breathing exercises."

"Or maybe my uncle just doesn't want to teach me more powerful firebending," Zuko snapped, turning on his uncle, eyes blazing.

Iroh stared placidly back at him. "I will teach you more when you show that you are ready. For today, you have practiced enough." Turning to Lieutenant Jee, the old man relaxed into a smile. "Maybe, Lieutenant, you would like to join me in a game of Pai Sho this evening?"

Jee nodded. "As long as the currents cooperate."

With a loud groan of frustration, Zuko stormed off in the direction of his own cabin.

"You are welcome to join us, Prince Zuko," Iroh called after him. "Some of the other men are planning a music night as well!"

Zuko slammed the door shut behind him. Iroh couldn't understand the importance of this mission or how difficult it would be to track the Avatar and the airbending boy. Zuko himself had watched them fly off on some sort of giant white beast. His ship was fast, but the Avatar wouldn't be bound to the ocean as he was. And when he finally caught up with them, there was the problem of capturing the Avatar and her friends. He had seen the kind of destruction that the girl was capable of, and for all he knew, the airbender could be every bit as powerful.

Fuming, he sat and crossed his legs. If mastering Iroh's ridiculous breathing exercises was the price of the lessons that Zuko sorely needed, he supposed that it was a price he would have to pay. He straightened his back and closed his eyes, still scowling deeply. Tomorrow, he would be more persistent. Tomorrow, he would refuse to stop training until Iroh agreed to teach him something more substantial, something would give him a better chance of bringing the Avatar down. But for today, Zuko told himself, his best option was to give Iroh what he wanted.

There was a slight tap at the door, and Zuko's concentration broke. Rising to his feet, he swung the door open with all the furious force he could muster. It was one of the lower-ranking men—perhaps a private, though Zuko couldn't be certain. He had never bothered to learn the names or ranks of his crew beyond what was necessary.

"What do you want?" Zuko snarled at the sailor.

The man gave a bow, then held up a scroll. "Forgive me, Prince Zuko. But we've just received word of the Avatar's location."

* * *

Katara was aware of being carried—there was a pair of hands looped under her arms and another holding her ankles. Whoever their attackers were, they were at least gentle. Closing her eyes, she tried to concentrate on the sound of their footsteps. There seemed to be fewer of them than she had thought at first—enough to carry her and the two boys, but no more than that.

She couldn't be certain how far she was carried before the hands around her ankles loosened, and those at her shoulders propped her up against a pole of some kind. A rope wrapped around her waist, and through the coarse brown fabric of the sack, she thought she could make out the top of a head. That was unusual, she thought. She wasn't particularly tall herself, but this person barely came up to the level of her nose. Two heavy forms slumped against her legs, and Katara turned her head down. Aang and Sokka, she guessed. Their captors must have propped the unconscious boys up against her legs. Another rope wrapped around the pole, just below her knees, and then finally, someone spoke.

"That's enough for now." It was a female voice, and not a very old one. "They aren't going anywhere."

The sack lifted, and Katara saw a row of young women in matching green dresses and armor. They all wore matching makeup—or perhaps paint was a better word for it—and as she thought, one of the girls was significantly shorter than Katara herself. She blinked a few times.

"Where am I?" Katara asked. "Who are you? What happened to my—" She looked down, and saw Sokka leaning against her right knee, drooling a little on her skirt, and Aang leaning on her left knee, still not wearing any pants. "Are they okay? Why did you attack us? We weren't doing anything wrong. Who was that—"

"Whenever you're finished." It was the same voice as before, and its speaker looked much the same as the others, though her stance was undeniably firmer. Katara stopped talking. The other girl nodded. "Good. Now before we answer any of your questions, we have a few of our own. Understand?"

Katara nodded.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Katara."

The girl gestured toward the boys. "And they are?"

"That's my brother, Sokka, and our friend, Aang."

"And are you doing on our island? Are you Fire Nation spies?"

"What?" Katara asked, incredulous. "No! We came from the Southern Water Tribe. We're just trying to get to the North Pole." She struggled against the ropes. "Who are you people? What gives you the right to attack people and hold them hostage just for setting up camp on the beach?"

The other girl folded her arms. "We're the Kyoshi Warriors. This is our village, and it's our job to protect our people from intruders."

Katara craned her neck to the side. Sure enough, they were on the edge of a village, and a small crowd had gathered to watch the interrogation. With a groan of frustration, she turned to the warriors again. "My brother and I set up a tent while Aang was swimming. How does that make us a threat?"

"You could have been signaling a ship.'

"But we weren't!"

"Why, then? If you're all trying to make it to the other end of the world, why stop here?"

At that, Katara had to pause. The truth sounded absurd, and she knew it. "Aang thought that he could ride the elephant koi," she said quietly.

The warrior's painted eyebrows raised, and two of the girls glanced at each other and covered their mouths to suppress giggles. Their leader turned their direction with a fierce look.

"Why should we believe you?"

"If I was a Fire Nation spy, don't you think I'd have a better cover story?"

There was a pause, and one of the girls leaned toward the leader. "She has a point, Suki."

Suki didn't answer. Her arms remained folded, and she stared at Katara.

"See?" Katara said. "Besides, I'm a waterbender. I don't know if you were all there long enough to see me practicing—" Suki shook her head. "—but the little boy did. I saw him watching me."

At that, Suki uncrossed her arms. "What little boy?"

Katara shrugged. "I don't know. Just a little boy."

For a minute, Suki stood still and silent, studying Katara's face for any sign of deception. Finally, though, she turned back to the other girls. "Wake the others up," she ordered. "If their stories all agree, we check their camp for anything suspicious and move everything off of the beach."

The other girls sprang into action. Several of them drew out ornate golden fans and crouched, ready to attack, while two others ran forward with small glass vials and held them under the boys' noses. Suki folded her arms again, looking pointedly at Katara.

"Not a word," Suki said quietly. "Don't give them any hints."

Katara nodded and Sokka woke, arms and legs flailing as much as the ropes would allow. A few seconds later, Aang woke with a tremendous snort and a jerk so forceful that he smacked his head against the post behind them.

"Ouch," Aang said and blinked a few times.

Sokka looked around wildly. "What happened? Where are we?" He looked up and saw Katara standing over him. "When did you wake up?"

"She didn't wake up," Suki answered. "She didn't scream like a baby the way you two did, so we didn't have to knock her out. "

Aang looked down, saw his bare legs, and went bright red. "Does somebody have my pants?"

One of the girls unhooked the airbender's pants from where they hung on her own belt and tossed them across to Aang.

"Thanks." Aang wriggled until he could pull his hands free and slipped his pants back on. Then he noticed the alternating looks of confusion and anger from the warriors. "Oh, right. Sorry." He put his hands behind his back again and slipped them back into the ropes.

"Hold on a second," Sokka said, staring disbelievingly at Suki. "You're trying to tell me that a couple of girls managed to capture me?" He scoffed. "Seriously. At least ten men attacked us. Big ones."

Katara sighed, looking up at the sky. "Sokka, please stop talking."

Suki folded her arms again, glaring at Sokka. "Actually, Minori took _you_ down without any help." The smallest of the girls smiled and gave a little wave.

"Her?" Sokka squeaked. Making an effort to speak lower, he added, "No. Not possible. Really, where are the warriors who captured us?"

"Um, Sokka?" Aang said, looking uneasily at the sharp edges of the nearest metal fan. "We're their prisoners. Maybe you should stop arguing."

"Wise choice," Suki said, turning toward Aang. "If you answer our questions, we might decide to let you go."

Aang nodded.

"So," asked Suki, "Why did you come to our island?"

"That's easy," Aang answered. "We were on our way to the North Pole, and we wanted to have some fun, so I decided that we should ride the elephant koi."

"Don't admit to that, Aang!" Sokka protested. "It makes us sound like a bunch of dumb kids." Katara kneed him in the side of the head, and he scowled up at her.

Suki ignored the older boy. "And who are you?"

"I'm Aang!"

"Where are you from?"

Aang hesitated. "Well, I was at the South Pole for a long time. But I'm actually from the Southern Air Temple."

Suki looked skeptical. "Really?"

"Yeah!" Aang freed his hands again and picked up a handful of pebbles. "I'm an airbender." As a demonstration, he caused the pebbles to hover between his hands and whirl around one another at an almost impossible speed. "Actually," he added slyly, seeing the look of wonder on two of the younger girls' faces, "I'm the Avatar. And Katara—"

She jabbed him with her toe and interrupted, "I'm a waterbender. I already told them that part, Aang."

Suki looked between Katara and Aang a little suspiciously, then finally turned back to the other warriors. "We'll take these two when we check their camp."

Minori, the littlest of the girls, gestured toward Sokka with her fan. "What about him?"

"He stays here for now," Suki answered, then smiled. "I'll leave you in charge of him, Minori."

"What?" Sokka yelped as the girls came forward to free Aang and Katara.

"You heard her," Minori replied, dropping into a fighting stance with a grin. "I'm in charge."

* * *

The warriors found nothing worthy of concern in their supplies and helped Katara and Aang pack away the tents and sleeping bags. When they returned to the village, the crowd that had gathered to watch the interrogation was still there, half watching in bemused silence as Sokka glared at the small warrior guarding him, half waiting for the others to return. In the short time that they had been gone, word had spread throughout the village that the Avatar had come, and Aang was instantly surrounded by admirers—one young man at the back of the crowd even foamed at the mouth in his excitement. Katara was nudged and elbowed away until she wound up next to her brother again. Even after he was freed, Sokka refused to make eye contact with her and stood sullen, his arms folded, staring after the warriors. Katara rolled her eyes at him.

A man named Oyaji gave them a room to use for the length of their stay, and while Aang reveled in the attention from the villagers, Sokka retreated to the room to sulk. By the time that night fell, Katara was sick of her brother's moping and thoroughly annoyed with Aang's attitude toward his newfound fame. When she woke up the following morning and both boys' behavior promised more of the same, Katara excused herself. There was a stream just outside of the village, away from Aang and his admirers and away from Sokka's increasingly bitter comments, where she could practice her waterbending. The way things were going, it seemed likely that she would have to continue teaching herself for a long time.

For nearly an hour, she practiced aimlessly, experimenting with different motions, testing herself to see what forms she could shape the water into. She pulled a thin tendril of water from the stream and formed it into a floating ball, then she stretched the ball out as long as she could. Part of the watery rope separated from the rest and fell to the ground, but she merely concentrated harder and brought her hands back together, drawing the remaining water back into a ball. Without ever having seen a master in action, it was hard to know what else to try—what else was even possible.

At that thought, Katara stopped herself. She had seen more powerful waterbending. Though her memory was unclear, the images of herself driving Zuko's ship away from the village still lingered in her mind. Taking a deep breath, she stared down at the stream, trying to remember how she had managed to create such a massive wave. Slowly, she raised her hands, and the water responded by lifting into an even swell. With a slight smile, she turned her palms forward, trying to push the swell of water up onto the opposite bank, but the wave only grew taller before crashing back in her direction, soaking her nearly to the waist. With a yell of frustration, she kicked at the water, only to hear a giggle behind her.

She whipped around in time to see a little boy—the same one from the beach—watching her. His hands flew up to his mouth, and for a second, Katara could do nothing but stare. The boy couldn't be more than seven years old, but there was an oddly critical look in his eyes, as if he disapproved of her technique.

"You're doing that wrong," the little boy said eventually.

"Thanks," Katara replied wryly, doing her best to bend the water from her skirt. "But I figured that out. Unless you know how to do it right, I really don't need your help."

"It's not that hard." The boy moved closer to the edge of the stream. "It's more like this." He raised his arms in a slow, sweeping motion, and the water lifted in response, then he swung his entire torso forward, palms turned outward, and the water rushed across to the opposite bank and splashed around the bases of the trees. Smiling in satisfaction, he turned to face Katara again.

She gaped at him. "You're a waterbender."

The little boy's eyes widened. "Uh oh." He covered his mouth, and his voice went muffled. "That's supposed to be a secret."

"It's okay," Katara said quickly as the boy started to retreat. "I'm not going to tell anyone. I had to keep my waterbending secret for a long time too."

Slowly, the little boy lowered his hand and relaxed into a smile. "Is that why so you're bad at it?"

"What? I'm not—" She glanced down. Despite her efforts, her skirt was still damp, and water was beginning to seep into her boots. "I just haven't practiced much," she corrected herself. "I never had anyone to teach me."

The boy shrugged. "Nobody taught me."

"So, you just figured it out on your own?"

He shook his head and studied Katara for a moment. "Do you want to see how I learned?"

In disbelief, she stared at him. The little boy grinned and came forward to grab her hand. "Come on. I'll show you."

He dragged her off down a narrow path that led deeper into the woods, curving alongside the stream and up a slight incline before the trees abruptly ended. At the center of the clearing stood a small house surrounded by a wide, flourishing garden. Smiling at Katara's surprise, the boy led her into the house.

"Mom, I met a new friend!" the boy announced.

"Oh, did you?" The boy's mother turned around with a smile. She was darker than the villagers Katara had seen so far, more reminiscent of herself and Sokka than the Earth Kingdom citizens who populated the rest of the island. The woman's blue eyes went cold the moment they landed on Katara. "Who is this?"

The iciness in the woman's voice and expression unnerved her. "My name is Katara."

"She's like me, Mom," the boy added, smiling. "She's a waterbender."

"Is she?" The woman stepped forward and grabbed her son by the shoulder. "In that case, I think I need to speak with her alone."

The boy protested, but his mother didn't listen. Not giving the boy a chance to follow, she propelled Katara back out the door.

"I'm sorry," said Katara as the door slammed shut after them. "Your son offered to show me something—if I had known that it was a problem, I wouldn't have followed him."

"Enough," the woman hissed, leaning in uncomfortably close. "I know where you're from. I know why you're here. And you can't have him."

Katara's mouth opened and closed a few times before she managed to produce a sound. "What?"

"My son will have nothing to do with waterbending. He has never set foot on the South Pole, and as long as I live, he never will." The woman's narrow face loomed even closer. "We owe you people nothing."

"Um." Katara took an uneasy step back. "I don't know what people you're talking about. I'm from the Southern Water Tribe, but I'm just visiting."

"They sent you here!" The woman advanced further, forcing Katara to back down into the garden.

"No one sent me! My friends and I are on our way to the North Pole, and we stopped here, that's all." When the woman grabbed a shovel and pointed it at her chest, Katara raised her hands and retreated a few more steps. "Why on earth do you think I would take your son?"

"Because this is exactly what happened last time."

The shovel jabbed closer, and Katara gave a small yelp. "Last time?"

"When they took my brother."

"Like I keep telling you," Katara said, "I'm not trying to take your son."

The shovel lifted several inches until it was pointed directly at her neck.

"And I'm not taking that chance. Leave. Now."

For only an instant, Katara hesitated, glancing from the blade of the shovel—not particularly sharp, but polished to a glossy point from years of use—to the woman's face. There wasn't a hint of doubt in the icy blue eyes, and Katara fled, turning her head back just long enough to see the little boy's face watching from a window as she ran.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

When I started working on this story, I set a bunch of ground rules for myself, and for the most part, I'm glad that I took that approach. But there are two self-imposed rules that I'm beginning to regret: specifically, "All chapters must be titled" and "Stealing episode titles is cheating". I like having chapter titles, and I like having reasons to set _A Tale of Ice and Smoke_ apart from the original series, but _dang_. I'm not good at titles.

That said, I hope you enjoy it! This chapter was a lot of fun to write (although that last section was a royal pain to revise and edit), and I hope you stick around to find out what happens in Part 2! And as always, feel free to leave reviews too! I love getting feedback!

Thanks for reading,

SooperSara


	6. Water: The Refugee: Part 2

**Water**

 **The Refugee: Part 2**

She had barely entered the village when Aang came flying up to her, grinning, with at least ten girls trailing after him.

"Katara!" he shouted, then skidded to a halt. "Where have you been? You're missing out on everything. This place is _great!_ "

His enthusiasm took her off guard, and one of the girls caught up, grabbing him by the arm. "Come on, Aang-y! You said it was my turn for a ride on your glider!"

"Just a second, Koko," Aang answered, shaking the girl off. She gave Katara a jealous look but fell back a few feet. "Isn't this great?" he asked Katara, speaking louder than he needed to in his exuberance. "Everybody is so excited to meet the Avatar. We're celebrities here!"

Katara felt her own expression darken. She had nearly forgotten how irritating it was to watch the girls fawn over Aang, and now that he had accepted the attention, it was worse. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," she answered flatly.

"You can join us if you want. I'm sure if you tell everyone—"

Katara grabbed him by the arm before he could go on. "Can I talk to you?" She shot a look at Koko, who was inching forward again. "Alone?"

Disappointed, Aang looked back at his little band of followers before facing Katara again. "Sure."

Head held high, Katara marched away with Aang in tow. Koko tried to follow them, but Katara shot an intense glare over her shoulder. With a loud huff of annoyance, Koko folded her arms over her chest and stomped back to join the other girls.

Once they were out of earshot, Katara spun Aang around to face her. "How many people have you told?"

Aang looked confused.

She sighed, looking upward. "About being the Avatar?"

"Oh!" Aang grinned. "Well I think I actually only told two or three of them. But everybody knows. I guess news spreads fast around here." Katara folded her arms, and Aang paused. "Why? Is there something wrong with that?"

"Can't you see how dangerous this is?" she demanded. "If people know who we are, it's going to make it a lot easier for the Fire Nation to find us."

With a smile, he shook his head. "I don't think we need to worry about that. This town loves me! They even had a portrait drawn, see?" He fumbled around in his tunic and produced a roll of paper. Unrolling it, he held it up next to his face and grinned.

Katara didn't spare the portrait a single glance. "I don't just mean _here_. We're going to be stopping in a lot of towns on our way to the North Pole, and if you keep bragging about being the Avatar, we're going to get caught." Aang appeared unmoved, and she deflated a little. "I'm beginning to think that Gran-Gran was right to keep this a secret. Even from me."

"Come on, Katara. I'm just trying to have some fun. If you'd just tell them that you're the Avatar too—"

"No!" She was surprised at the force in her own voice and dropped back to almost a whisper. "The reason I haven't anyone is because I don't want anyone to know. It's bad enough that everyone knows about you. But since they already know, go ahead and parade around all you want. Just leave me out of it."

For a fraction of a second, Aang looked hurt, then he scowled. "Fine. I can have plenty of fun without—"

There was a sudden commotion across the street, and they both turned to see someone in one of the warrior's uniforms—someone a little too tall, a little too broad, whose hair didn't quite suit the outfit—burst from the training hall, followed by peals of laughter.

Katara's jaw dropped. "Is that _Sokka_?"

Aang looked equally bewildered, but he cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, "Hey, Sokka! Over here!"

He turned toward them for an instant. It was unmistakably Sokka. His eyes widened at them, and he shielded his face with his hand. With as much dignity as he could muster, he turned away, heading back toward their room. Aang and Katara grinned at one another before running to catch up with him.

"I like your dress, Sokka," Aang said.

"And the makeup," Katara added. "The red really brings out your eyes."

"Shut up." Sokka slammed the door open and stomped into their room. "It's just a uniform."

"If it's just a uniform, then why are you so angry about it?" Katara asked as he struggled to untie the sash around his waist.

"Yeah, Sokka. It looks good on you."

Sokka scowled and threw the sash at Aang.

Katara rolled her eyes and snatched the sash out of the air. "If it's that humiliating, why are you wearing it?"

"Because!" Sokka's voice went high at the end of the word. "I wanted to know how those girls managed to knock me out, and they wouldn't show me anything until I put this stupid thing on." He struggled his way out of the uniform and pulled his own clothes back on. With a sigh of relief, he flopped down on the floor. "That's better. I feel like a man again."

"You're still wearing the makeup," Aang observed with a smile.

"Gaah!" Sokka rubbed furiously at the side of his face. "Is it coming off?"

Aang leaned in closer. "No. I'm sure that stuff is made stay on during battle. There must be a special way to wash it off."

Sokka gave a prolonged groan. "Katara," he whined. "Help me."

"What makes you think that I would know how to get it off? I've never worn makeup in my life."

"But you're a girl!"

"And you wore face paint when you wanted the boys to take training seriously. I think you can manage."

"That was _warrior's_ face paint."

Katara shrugged. "So how is this any different?"

Sokka sputtered. "It—it just is, okay? Are you going to help me or not?"

Katara shook her head. "I'm not. There's someone I need to talk to." She turned to leave.

"If you see Suki," Sokka yelled after her, "tell her I'm not wearing the dress tomorrow!"

Rolling her eyes, she closed the door. The streets were quieter without the boys—or it seemed that way for a moment. Aang's group of followers stood in a huddle at the corner, and when Katara emerged, they crushed in toward the door, squealing. Koko grabbed her by the elbow.

"Where's Aang-y?" Koko demanded. "He _promised_ me a ride on his glider."

Katara narrowed her eyes at the younger girl and shook her arm free. " _Aang_ is busy right now."

Before Koko had a chance to respond, Katara stalked off in the opposite direction. There were more important things to worry about than whether Aang's little fan club liked her or not. Though she was anxious to get moving again—staying in a place where everyone knew that Aang was the Avatar was as dangerous as it was maddening—she needed to find out all she could about the waterbending boy and his mother.

She took a meandering, half-deliberate route back to the training hall, and found Suki sitting alone on the front step. Suddenly uncertain, Katara approached her.

"Could I talk to you for a minute, Suki?"

Suki looked up. She had taken the blades of her fan apart and seemed intent on polishing each one individually. "I guess so." Watching intently as Katara sat on the step, Suki picked up the next blade. "I think I know why you're here. And before you ask, the answer is no."

"What do you mean?"

Suki's eyes were turned downward again, focused on the smudged metal. "I'm not changing my mind about your brother wearing the dress."

Katara raised her eyebrows. "I thought it was a uniform."

"It is. And you can remind your brother that as long as he's a student of the Kyoshi Warriors, he has to follow our rules." Suki looked up again, her expression fierce. "And our rules say that he can't train with us if he doesn't wear the uniform. That means the dress _and_ the makeup."

Katara shrugged. "That's fine with me."

For a second, Suki studied her critically. "Good." She finished with the blade and picked up the final one. "As long as Sokka didn't send you here to beg for his dignity."

"He tried to. But I had something else to ask you." Katara pulled her knees up to her chest and clasped her hands together. "You know everyone who lives here, right?"

Suki looked out across the street, and her eyes landed on a boy who was slouching past. "I know some of them a little too well. "

Katara followed her gaze. "The foaming-mouth guy?" The boy turned their direction, and she clapped a hand over her own mouth.

Suki groaned, but gave him a small wave. With a strange little nod, the boy slouched away again. "Don't ask. It's a long story."

Embarrassed, Katara nodded and watched in silence until the foaming mouth guy was gone. "I meant to ask," she said eventually, "if you knew anything about a little boy who lives in the woods outside the village." She pointed roughly in the direction of the little house. "I met him today, and his mother seemed—"

"Weirdly secretive?" Suki finished for her. "She's been that way as long as I can remember."

"She threatened me with a shovel."

Suki's eyebrows raised. "That's new. Normally she just—doesn't talk."

"That would have been nice," Katara said wryly. "Any idea why she's like that?"

"Not really." Suki set the blades of her fan aside, looking thoughtful. "She seemed normal when I was younger. Her parents and her brother were always friendly."

"Were?"

"Her parents died. I don't know what happened to her brother, but I think he was gone for a while before her son was born."

That sentence caught Katara's attention. Something almost made sense to her, something about the brother, about the timing—but before her mind could sort it out, there was a crashing sound, a few blocks away, but still loud enough that both girls jumped. The hollow thumps and metallic jangling gave way to profuse apologies, and Katara wished that she were surprised to recognize Aang's voice. With a sigh, she stood.

"I'd better go. Hopefully he didn't break anything too important," Katara said. "Thanks for everything, Suki!" And with that, she sprinted off toward the growing commotion.

* * *

Zuko leaned over the map. The island they were headed for was small—just a featureless blob of green ink in the middle of the ocean.

"Why don't we have a better map of this place, Uncle?"

Iroh didn't look up from his game. "Kyoshi Island is small, Prince Zuko. No more than two hundred people live there. And to my knowledge, they have not participated in a single battle in the past hundred years. There was never a need for detailed maps."

"That's no excuse!" Zuko slammed his fist down. "I need to know what we're up against!"

Raising a single eyebrow, Iroh looked at his nephew, then picked up a tile. "If we had maps of every village the Avatar might choose to visit, there would be no space left for your crew." Turning the tile over in his hand, he rubbed his beard.

"Are you just going to keep playing your game?" Zuko snapped contemptuously. "This is more important, Uncle."

"Never underestimate the importance of Pai Sho, Prince Zuko. Perhaps you would like to join me?"

"No." Zuko scowled down at the map again. "I can't waste time on games."

"In my experience," Iroh said, placing the tile down on the game board, "games of strategy are never a waste of time. They provide clarity that few things can match."

In disbelief, Zuko watched his uncle for a moment. "How is Pai Sho supposed to help me if Commander Zhao reaches Kyoshi Island before I do?"

At that, Iroh raised his head with a smile. "Ah, but Prince Zuko, that is one problem that you will not have to face. Commander Zhao does not know that the Avatar has been spotted on Kyoshi Island."

"How is that possible? If your old friends from the Army sent word to us, Zhao must know too."

Iroh's smile remained. "Never rely too much on a single source of information, Prince Zuko. I have other connections that Commander Zhao cannot claim to share."

Zuko scowled as his uncle turned back to his game again. "What sort of connections?" he grumbled, staring at the green blotch on the map. "A network of gossipy old men who eat too much?"

Iroh chuckled. "Not quite." He stopped, stroking his chin. "Although that may not be a bad idea." Staring into the distance, he picked up another tile and turned it absently over in his hand. "Yes. We could use food vendors and merchants—"

"Before you found a secret society of fat people," Zuko snapped, "could you at least pretend to be helpful? Maybe glance at the map?"

With a heavy, thoughtful sigh, Iroh lifted himself from the floor and came to join his nephew.

* * *

The sun shone too bright through the windows of their room the following morning. Katara was usually eager to arise and start the day, but Aang had gotten on her nerves again last night. He was just _so_ proud to be the Avatar, _so_ excited to be able to show off his airbending. She glared up at the ceiling. His exuberance hadn't relented until he crashed headfirst into a cart drawn by an ostrich horse. And even that hadn't been enough for his fan club—at their encouragement, he had attempted the same trick several more times.

Aang tried to cajole her into joining his band of followers again. If she refused to tell anyone who she was, he insisted, she could at least enjoy the benefits of his fame. There was a creature called the Unagi, he told her, eyes bright with excitement, that lived just off the coast. Koko had told him all about it, and now that he knew that such a thing existed, the only logical course he could see was to ride the beast in front of all his admirers.

Katara refused. She didn't know what she was going to do with the day—despite his protests last night, Sokka had gathered up his Kyoshi Warrior uniform and stomped back to the training hall after breakfast—and after yesterday, the idea of practicing her waterbending had lost its charm. Still, anything had to be better than watching the girls gush over Aang's every move.

She hadn't been alone long when there was a quiet rap at the door. Answering it, she expected to see Suki or Oyaji, or maybe one of the little girls, wondering where Aang had gone. Instead, a little boy beamed up at her.

"Hi!"

Startled, Katara took several steps back.

"Oh." The boy's face fell. "Sorry. I guess my mom really scared you."

"What?" Katara realized that her hands were clenched into fists and made a conscious effort to release them. "No. I'm sorry, you just surprised me."

The grin slowly returned to the little boy's face.

"What are you doing here?" Katara asked in what she hoped was a friendly tone. "I hope you're not getting yourself into trouble. Your mom was pretty angry at me."

The little boy produced a long, narrow box from behind his back. "I wanted to show you. This is how I learned waterbending." His grin turned mischievous. "Since you're so bad at it, I thought this might help."

Katara opened and closed her mouth a few times but couldn't find a way to respond. Instead, she motioned the boy inside, and as she shut the door, he plopped onto the floor and opened the box. Inside, there was a carefully preserved scroll, and he pulled it out with the utmost care. As Katara sat, he unfurled it, and her eyes widened.

"These are waterbending forms," she said softly, her hands drifting uncontrollably toward the parchment. With a tremendous effort, she stopped herself before she could touch the pictures. "This is incredible," she told the boy. "Where did you get something like this? My grandmother told me that there used to be scrolls like this, but I thought they were all destroyed."

"This one was my uncle's." The boy unrolled the scroll to its full length—it was longer than he was tall, and there had to be nearly a hundred forms sketched in various colors of ink.

"Your mom's brother," Katara said softly. "So he must have been a waterbender too."

He nodded. "Mom says he was the best. And that's why the bad people took him away."

She dragged her eyes away from the illustrations. "What bad people? Firebenders?"

"No. Some of them were waterbenders like me. Mom says they wanted my uncle to fight, and then he never came home."

Katara's heart sunk. Everything that Suki had told her last night came rushing back. The boy's uncle had disappeared before the boy was born—it had to have been six or seven years in that case. Just before the raid that had taken her own mother's life. She swallowed hard. It certainly didn't make the woman's threats any less frightening, but they suddenly made more sense. Kyoshi Island was safe. The South Pole was not. The boy's family would have counted on that fact when they came here, however long ago that may have been. There were no raids on Kyoshi Island. But that didn't matter if survivors from the South Pole came begging for help when they were in danger. The boy's uncle had tried to help, and it had cost him his life.

The little boy traced a finger along the edge of the parchment. "I can't do many of these yet. Mom doesn't like it when I practice. But you could learn." He looked up at Katara. "I'll let you borrow it for today."

Her jaw dropped, and for a second, she couldn't find a way to respond. "Are you sure?"

Smiling, he nodded. "You need more practice than I do."

The boy stood to go, leaving her gaping at the scroll. She was torn. On the one hand, the scroll was amazing—she could learn more by studying it for two minutes than she had been able to teach herself in her entire life. On the other, a day simply wasn't enough. If she wanted to learn all the forms—and she did, desperately—she would need months.

As the door swung shut after him, she sprang to her feet and darted to the door.

"Hey!" she called, and the boy turned back to her. "Do you know where I could buy some paper and ink?"

* * *

Katara was no artist. If she had ever doubted that before, her attempt at copying the waterbending scroll proved the point. Splotches of ink dotted her arms from her fingertips to her elbows, and her hair kept falling in her face—she was almost certain that she would find black streaks all over her forehead when she finally summoned the courage to check her reflection. But after a day of hard work—she leaned back on her hands and sighed. Her figures were crude and stiff, but they were finished. Eighty-six waterbending forms.

There were footsteps outside the room, and in a panic, Katara rolled up the original scroll and tucked it back into the box. There was no time to deal with her own copy, and some of the figures weren't dry yet. Composing herself as well as she could, she stood in front of her scroll and shoved it back against the wall with her foot.

"Katara!" Aang burst in, soaking wet, and full of energy. "You should've been there! It was amazing—I finally caught one of the elephant koi! They're just as much fun as I remember! And then I saw the Unagi, and—" he broke off upon seeing her face. "Did you let Sokka test out his makeup on you?"

Feeling her face redden, she wiped the back of her hand across her forehead. A few blue-grey smears came with it. "Not exactly."

"It's everywhere." Aang grabbed her arm and pulled it down to his own level. "How did you get ink on your shoulder?"

Katara followed his gaze to the black splotch on her right shoulder. "Monkey feathers!" She pulled her arm from Aang's grasp and stretched the sleeve of her dress out as far as she could. "I hope that washes out."

"What have you been doing all day?" Aang asked, and his eyes fell on the scroll behind her.

"Wait!" Katara grabbed him by the arm and placed herself in front of the scroll again. "I don't want you to see it right now."

"What? Why not?" he tried to crane over her shoulder, but she pushed him back.

"Please, Aang." She could picture the little boy and his mother—and the longer she had hovered over the waterbending scroll today, the more she understood the reasons behind all the woman's precautions. She ought to understand—she had worried almost as much when Aang revealed himself as the Avatar. "It's not important right now. I'll show it to you later, okay? Just—not until we leave Kyoshi Island."

Aang looked bewildered, and she turned him around, throwing an arm around his shoulders. "It's nothing bad, I promise. I just want it to be a secret for now." She smiled in response to his uncertainty. "So, what were you going to tell me about the Unagi?"

* * *

The island came into view around midmorning. Much as Zuko hated being confined to such a small, outdated vessel, he had to admit that it made good time. Clasping his hands behind his back, he turned to face his crew. "Today," he announced, "We are going to capture the Avatar."

Several of the men shifted, looking uncomfortable. Zuko's expression darkened.  
"I understand that some of you have expressed doubts. But now that we have seen what the Avatar is capable of, we will be more prepared to face him." It felt odd to refer to the airbending boy as the Avatar after he had seen the girl's eyes glow, after he had watched her destroy his ship without a thought, but Iroh was right. The fewer people who knew about the girl, the easier it would be to capture her. "He's traveling with a waterbending girl. We need to capture her as well."

At that, there were grumbles. One of the men called out, "What's so important about a waterbender?"

Zuko turned toward the voice, fuming, but Iroh saved him the trouble of speaking. "The last surviving waterbender of the southern tribe," Iroh said calmly. "The girl is the last her kind, just like the boy. She is the sort of curiosity that the Fire Lord appreciates."

Zuko gave a single nod. "Precisely." He turned to face the island again. "I'm going to give them both to my father."

* * *

When she saw the whiskered gray-green head break through the surface of the water, Katara regretted agreeing to watch Aang ride the Unagi. It was too big, too toothy, too ferocious. From where he floated, Aang waved back to her, grinning. She tried to return his smile. Then her eyes caught on a darker, more distant shape on the horizon. Her heart dropped.

"Aang!" she shouted, waving both arms furiously. "Aang, come back to shore!"

Her waving didn't seem to bother him, and she should have known that he wouldn't hear a word she said. Taking a deep breath, she plunged into the water and ran until she stood knee-deep in the ocean. "Aang! Look behind you!" she yelled, gesturing toward the ship with both arms. A tremendous arch of water rose up behind her and froze, hanging over her head. She gave a small squeak of surprise and made another motion with her hand, releasing the water back into the sea.

Again, Aang didn't hear her, but her display of unintentional waterbending was enough to grab his attention. With long, powerful strokes, he swam back toward shore.

"What's wrong?" Aang shouted when he was finally near enough to hear her.

"Behind you!" Katara yelled. The ship's outline was growing more distinct as it came nearer. "A Fire Navy ship! We have to go!"

"Huh?" Aang turned back to look, and his eyes went wide. "Oh, no."

"Come on." She ran forward just far enough to grab his arm. "We have to get Sokka and get out of here while we still can."

Aang dressed in a matter of seconds, and they ran as fast as they could back to the village. Katara didn't even care that she was soaked to the waist—all she knew was that they had to go.

When they burst into the training hall, Sokka and Suki were alone, standing almost uncomfortably close together. Eyes wide—and looking wider than normal thanks to the makeup—Sokka pulled back. "This isn't what it looks like," he said too loudly.

Aang's eyebrows raised. "What's it supposed to look like?"

Katara looked from Sokka to Suki and back again. "I'd apologize for interrupting your 'training'," she said, "but we really don't have time for that. Sokka, come on, now. We're leaving."

"What? But Suki was just going to show me the—"

"There's a Fire Navy ship coming, Sokka," Aang interrupted. "We need to pack Appa up and get out before something bad happens."

It seemed impossible, but Sokka's eyes widened further. He glanced at Suki one more time, then he was off too, only half a step behind Aang and Katara.

"How far away was it?" Sokka asked, starting to loosen the sash around his waist before the door closed. "Do we have a little time to—" he turned around and saw Suki watching him from the doorway. He yelped, then tightened the sash again. "Oh, forget it. I can pack like this." And, still wearing the Kyoshi Warrior uniform, he knelt and started throwing everything he could into bundles.

"They aren't far away," Aang answered as he scooped up his glider and shoved their extra food into a sack. "We probably only have a few minutes."

"So you're all just leaving?" Suki asked, incredulous. "Running from a fight? Is that what this is?"

"Have you ever met a firebender, Suki? They aren't nice people," Sokka answered.

Katara rolled up her sleeping bag, and tied it shut. As she reached for her last spare dress to shove it into her bag, her hand met the corner of a box—the little boy's waterbending scroll. Carefully, she pulled the box out.

"Ready, Katara? Time to get moving."

She nodded and shoved the dress into her bag. She would have to find a way to get the original scroll back to the little boy. There had to be a way.

Sokka burst out the door, then spun back around. "Back. Back, back, back." He shoved the other three across the room.

"What is it, Sokka?" Aang asked, practically crawling up the older boy's arm to see out the window.

"It's firebenders, what else were you expecting? They must have taken a landing boat ahead of the ship. We're trapped."

"There's no such thing." With that, Suki drew out her katana and wedged the blade into the frame of the back window. After a tremendous heave, the glass swung outward. "What are you waiting for? This way."

"Suki, you can't just break things," Sokka hissed as he wedged himself into the window frame. His skirt was too wide for the opening, and he stuck there, half-in and half-out the window.

"Nothing's broken." She shoved Sokka's head, and his skirt popped free, sending him tumbling to the ground outside. She winced and glanced back at Katara. "Except maybe your brother."

Aang tossed his staff and the pack of food through the window and dove out, much more gracefully than Sokka had.

"Wait," Katara said quickly when Suki motioned her toward the window. "I have a favor to ask you." She pulled the scroll box from where she had balanced it on top of her sleeping bag. "Could you get this back to the little boy? You know, the one I asked you about the other day? It belongs to him, and I think his mother is going to cut my head off with her shovel if he doesn't get this back."

Suki paused for a moment and looked at the box. "What is it?"

Katara managed a small smile. "Hey, I didn't ask you about the foaming mouth guy. Could you return the favor? Just this one time?"

Suki looked skeptical but nodded. "You'd better hurry."

Katara smiled and tossed her sleeping bag and her pack outside. "Thanks, Suki." She dropped lightly out the window and gathered up her things.

The boys were waiting for her, crouching low alongside a porch, barely hidden from the street.

"They've got Appa surrounded," Aang whispered. Katara peeked over the edge of the porch and dropped back down immediately. There were four firebenders standing around the bison, and Zuko was one of them. And he looked angrier than he had last time.

Suki crawled up behind them, the scroll box sticking out of her waistband. "So, what's the plan?"

"We just need to get to Appa," Aang said.

"Okay. And how's that going to work?"

Sokka screwed his face up in concentration for a moment, then his eyes lit up, and he grabbed both Aang and Katara by the shoulder. "We're going to fight."

"Sokka, that isn't a plan," Katara hissed, pushing his hand off. "We're not going to be able to beat them."

"No, _you're_ not going to fight," he said to her. "The rest of us are. And we don't need to beat them, we just need to keep Prince Jerkface busy. And while we're doing that, you're going to sneak past them and get everything loaded into the saddle. Then once you're ready, all Aang and I have to do is climb up on Appa and fly away."

Katara stared at him, but Sokka didn't seem to notice or care. He shoved his sleeping bag and his pack into her arms, then grabbed the bag of food from Aang and piled it on top of their other supplies.

"Go," he whispered. "Quick, before they find us."

Scowling at him, Katara adjusted the bags in her arms. She didn't like his plan, but it was better than anything she had thought of so far.

Her heart raced as she rounded the edge of the village, keeping to the trees until she was on the opposite side of Appa. The firebenders hadn't noticed her yet—cautiously, she crept nearer to the edge of the woods. An instant later, Sokka sprang to his feet with a bellow, and Suki and Aang burst out after him.

Katara waited just long enough to be certain that the firebenders were occupied before she emerged from the trees and tossed the sleeping bags up into the saddle. She ducked behind Appa's tail any moment she thought she saw one of the firebenders glance her way, but one by one, she managed to toss each of their bags up into the saddle. She saw only bits and pieces of the fight—Sokka was constantly up and down, being knocked on his rear and leaping back up, and Aang twisted and spun one direction, then another. She saw less of Suki—but then, Suki was a steadier fighter, relying less on constant motion and more on solid, well placed strikes.

Climbing up Appa's leg without making a sound or showing herself was difficult—when Katara grabbed a fistful of fur to haul herself up, the bison turned his massive head back and rumbled at her. She froze.

"Just a few more minutes, Appa," she hissed. "Hold still until I get everything tied down, and then we can go."

The bison's huge brown eyes lingered on her for a moment, then he snorted and turned forward again. Letting out a slow breath, she grabbed onto the edge of the saddle, and Momo poked his little pointed face out. The lemur shrieked at her, and she tried not to scream in response.

At that instant, a hand closed around her arm, and she spun around.

Zuko's eyes narrowed at her. "Going somewhere?"

Katara fell back to the ground, and Zuko smirked down at her.

"You almost had me fooled." He flung his fist open, and a flame burst from his palm. Katara scrambled to her feet and backed away, heart pounding. "I didn't think that the Avatar would find it necessary to use her friends as decoys."

In a panic, she backed farther from him, farther from Appa. She could defeat him—she had done it before. But unless she wanted to reveal herself as the Avatar, her chances were slim. Clenching her fists, she glanced back to her friends. They were gaining ground against the remaining firebenders, but they hadn't seemed to notice the prince's absence. Even if they had, they wouldn't reach her in time to help.

With a grimace of concentration, Katara pulled as much water as she could from her still-damp skirt and formed it into a ball. Zuko snickered.

"That's it? What happened to all your other tricks?" He shot a fist-sized fireball at her, and with a yelp, Katara managed to bring the water up in time to block the flames. The water sizzled, and when she formed it back into a ball, it was considerably smaller than before. Giving a crooked smile, Zuko advanced on her again, and she backed up further. She could almost feel the water in the stream behind her—only a dozen or so strides behind her now, but still too far for her to reach.

He shot a volley of small fireballs, apparently amused by her attempts to dodge and block the attacks as she continued her retreat one step at a time. Over Zuko's shoulder, she could still see the others caught up in their own fight, gaining ground toward Appa.

And then, Katara could reach the edge of the stream. She pulled a stream of water up over her shoulder and sent it flying toward the firebender. His eyes widened briefly in surprise, and before he could strike again, the water closed in over his hands and froze them together.

Katara took the opportunity to run. The ice wouldn't hold Zuko long, she knew that, but at the least, it had taken him by surprise. If she could just make it back to Appa, they had a chance to escape.

She was still several feet away when the boys broke free of the fight and sprinted to the bison. Sokka vaulted over the saddle and took the reins while Aang sent one last blast of air to knock the remaining firebender off his feet.

"Katara!" Aang yelled to her, raising his staff over his head as if to come to her rescue.

"Go!" She shouted back, racing as fast as her legs could carry her. "I'm right behind you!"

Aang nodded and leapt up into the saddle, then turned to watch her. Katara was only a few strides away, and Aang reached a hand out to her. Sokka was watching over his shoulder too—the moment her feet landed on Appa's tail and she reached for Aang's hand, he cracked the reins.

"Yip-yip, Appa!"

With a roar, the bison lifted off the ground, but Katara's hand fell short of Aang's. Zuko had managed to grab the hem of her skirt—she tumbled backward and fell several feet before she landed on top of him. His grip on her hem failed, and Katara leapt back up and started to run. Before she made it more than a few steps, though, his foot hooked around her ankle, and she fell face-first into the dirt.

"Not today," Zuko growled, climbing back to his feet as Katara slid farther from him, trying desperately to put some distance between them before she rose to her feet. She heard and felt the roar of the flames, and she turned back in time to see him reach down with one hand while he held a ball of fire in the other.

Katara slid back a few more feet, but before Zuko could reach her, Suki came racing in from the side and slammed into his shoulder. In an instant, Katara was on her feet again.

"Go!" Suki shouted.

Katara didn't need to be told. She was already sprinting after Appa, too far behind to catch up, but a moment later, a shadow swept down over her, and Aang glided up to her side. Almost without thinking, she leapt forward and flung her arms around Aang's waist, and they lifted off of the ground.

Her heartbeat didn't slow until they were safely in the saddle, lying in a jumbled pile of their unsecured supplies. By the time she looked down again, Suki and the other warriors were driving the firebenders back toward the shore.

Sokka hung over the side of Appa's head too. "Do you think Suki's going to be okay?"

Katara straightened up and started moving their supplies into a more organized heap. "She'll be fine. Zuko's chasing us, not her."

Sokka let out a long, mournful sigh, and Aang gave him an odd look. "Are you blushing?"

"What? No! Why would I be blushing?" Sokka dropped the reins and shielded his face with his arms. "The makeup must be smeared."

Katara rolled her eyes. "I'm sure that's exactly—" She broke off midsentence when she came across her own pack and found that the drawstrings had come open. "Uh oh." Plunging her hand in, she dug through its contents. "No, no, no. Please don't tell me I lost it."

Aang scooted over to her. "What are you looking for?"

Her hand closed around her scroll, and she sighed in relief. "This." Smiling, she pulled the scroll out and passed it over to Aang. He unrolled it and stared wide-eyed at the drawings.

"A waterbending scroll? Where did you get this?"

Grinning, Katara leaned back on her hands. "Someone let me borrow theirs, so I made a copy. Now we can start training before we get to the North Pole."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Finally! This chapter took me ages to finish, so I'm really grateful for your patience. I hope it's worth the wait!

Real life is getting a lot more hectic for me, so updates are going to slow down for a while. I'll be starting on Chapter 7 shortly, but it'll be a few weeks before it's ready to go—in the meantime, please feel free to leave comments! Feedback is really helpful, and I know that there was a lot going on in this chapter—if anything was confusing, please let me know, and I'll be happy to clear things up for you!

Thanks for reading,

SooperSara


	7. Water: The Impersonator

**Water**

 **The Impersonator**

When the water escaped her control for the tenth time, Katara groaned in frustration and flopped down to study her waterbending scroll again. She had been trying the same form for the past few hours, and no matter what she did, no matter how she varied her stance, the water refused to cooperate. The illustrations showed tall, elegant discs of water, and she hadn't managed to create much more than a half-hearted bulge that slid a few feet before collapsing.

"Why doesn't this work?" she mumbled, resting her chin in her hand.

"You probably drew it wrong," Sokka replied. "You're not exactly a great artist, you know."

Katara turned back to him, glaring. "I'm a lot better than you."

He poked at the campfire. "So? That still doesn't mean that you didn't screw something up when you copied that dumb scroll." One of the logs rolled over, sending a spray of sparks upward. "Why do you need it anyway? Isn't the whole point of this trip to find an actual teacher for you and Aang?"

Scowling in concentration, she looked down at the scroll again. Maybe it was the placement of her feet, or the angle of her wrists—the figure on the scroll had its feet spread as wide as they would go, and its hands bent almost backward. Frowning, she tried to stretch her wrists that way, but it hurt to push them even half as far. Maybe Sokka had a point. None of the drawings resembled the form the boy had shown her a few days ago. _It's all about the movements,_ she reminded herself. _Even the real scroll just showed the shapes. I have to figure out how to connect them._

"So?" Sokka poked his stick at Katara. "Are you going to give it a rest or not?"

"I'm not." Determined, she stood back up. "Aang, why don't you come practice with me? We both need to learn this sooner or later. I can show you what I already know, and maybe you can help me figure out this new form."

Startled, Aang looked up from the map. "Uh." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Actually, I'm a little busy. You know, figuring out our next stop."

"See? Now there's a good use of our time." Sokka hopped up to look over Aang's shoulder, and Momo chattered, reaching up to pat Sokka's face. "Hey, I'm not talking to you, peach-breath." Pushing the lemur's tiny hands away, he continued, "Where to next? A crazy mountain temple, then a sea monster island—what's your next plan? Are we going to pick a fight with a platypus bear? Try to take over a Fire Nation city?"

Aang looked back over his shoulder. "No. We're going to Omashu."

Katara folded her arms. "What's in Omashu?"

Grinning, Aang rolled up the map. "They have these huge slides built up over the whole city. It's so much fun. You guys are going to love it."

One of her eyebrows shot upward. "Slides?"

"Well, it's really a network of stone ramps. They use them for delivering mail and packages all over the city, but a friend of mine figured out that riding in the mail sleds was a lot more fun."

The siblings glanced at one another.

"Aang," Sokka began slowly. "You know I was joking, right? I don't actually want to fight a platypus bear."

"I know that," Aang answered, looking a little confused.

"I think what Sokka means is that our last field trip didn't end very well." Katara picked up her scroll and wound it shut. "Maybe we should just focus on getting to the North Pole as fast as possible."

"Exactly." Sokka settled back beside the campfire. "I don't know about you, but I'd rather not give Prince Jerkbender another chance to catch up with us. We need to keep moving for now." Turning a glare toward Katara he added, "And that means no more wasting time with scrolls full of waterbending nonsense that doesn't even work."

"Hey!" Katara stomped over to her brother and thumped his head with the end of her scroll. "I need to learn waterbending. If you can think of a better way to do it, I'd be happy to hear it."

Sokka smacked her in the leg. "Wait until we get to the North Pole. Then you can learn from someone who actually knows what they're doing instead of wasting our time."

"How am I wasting time? We already stopped for the night. It's not like I'm _making_ you sit around while I practice."

Sokka made a face at her and then poked sullenly at the fire.

Rolling her eyes, Katara turned to Aang again. "My point is, the last time we stopped for more than a day, Zuko almost captured me. If the Kyoshi Warriors hadn't been there, he might have caught you too. We might not be lucky enough to get away next time."

Aang stared in silence for a minute. "Well," he said eventually, "then we definitely need to go to Omashu."

Sokka pointed the still-smoldering stick at Aang. "Not your best argument, Aang."

"No, really." Aang sat up straighter and unrolled the map again. "Look. Omashu isn't that far out of our way. We can be there in a couple of days, and I think—" He trailed his finger over the stretch of the map between their campsite and Omashu. "We should be able to camp by a river every night. That way you can still practice, Katara, and Sokka—" He grinned, looking up. "—you could always go fishing if you don't want to get splashed while you wait."

Sokka leaned forward, seeming to consider it. "I would enjoy having some fresh fish."

"Right." Raising an eyebrow, Katara settled down on the opposite side of the fire. "Because you've _never_ been splashed by a fish before, Sokka." She pulled her pack closer and tucked her scroll carefully away. "I know you're really looking forward to this, Aang, but I'm still not sure that it's a good idea to stop anywhere for more than a day. If Zuko could find us on Kyoshi Island, he must have connections feeding him information about us. He'll probably figure out that we're in Omashu."

"That's the best part," Aang replied, sliding the map toward her. "Omashu is landlocked. Even if he finds out where we are, we'll be long gone before he can get there."

* * *

The walls of Omashu nearly put the towers of the Southern Air Temple to shame. It was less elaborate, to be sure—while the spires of the Air Temple were remarkable for their simple, soaring elegance, Omashu's sheer size was impressive. The city seemed to form a cone spilling upward from the outer walls, and from the mountainside where they landed Appa, it almost blended in with the surrounding peaks.

"We can to go on foot from here," Aang announced, sliding to the ground. He looked back at Katara. "Unless you guys change your mind about taking Appa in with us."

"No chance, kid." Sokka jumped down and made an exaggerated display of stretching. "I may not be an expert on the Earth Kingdom, but I'm pretty sure they don't have a lot of sky bison running around. If we're trying not to get noticed, the ten-ton furball stays here."

Appa rumbled.

"It's okay, buddy." Aang scratched the bison's chin. "There's plenty of grass for you to eat here. And we'll be back tomorrow." Grinning, he turned toward the city. "Come on, guys!"

"Wait, Aang!" Katara hopped down from the saddle. "Don't you think we'll still look a little conspicuous walking into Omashu like this?"

He stopped, looking confused. "What do you mean?"

Sokka held up a hand to stop his sister before she could respond. "I've got this. Aang, how many bald, tattooed twelve-year-olds have you seen so far in the Earth Kingdom?"

"Oh." He stopped, rubbing a hand over his shaved head. "So what am I supposed to do? It's not like I can just grow hair on command."

Smiling, Katara climbed back up into the saddle and began rifling through their supplies. "I'm sure we can come up with something."

Less than an hour later, they were on their way, Aang bundled into several layers of Sokka's clothes, looking like a hunched, shriveled old man with tufts of Appa's fur sticking out from under his hood.

"You look ridiculous," Sokka grumbled. "That outfit isn't going to fool anyone."

"Hey!" Katara jabbed him with her elbow. "Be nice, Sokka. I think we did a great job."

"Yeah," Aang added in his best impression of an old man's voice. "Mind your manners, young man. Don't you know that I'm a hundred and twelve years old?"

Sokka rolled his eyes. "You still look like a twelve-year-old. The bison fur doesn't change that."

"Fine." Aang reached up into his hood and pulled out a tuft of fur. Pinching it between his upper lip and his nose, he turned to Katara. "Do you like my mustache?"

She grinned. "Very distinguished."

"Really?" Sokka scowled harder. "Now you look like my grandfather."

"Mission accomplished!" Aang said gleefully.

"Relax, Sokka. He doesn't need to look like anyone specific as long as no one can tell that he's an airbender."

They came within sight of the road—a broad cobbled path which wound down from the mountains and across a long bridge to the city gates. Several earthbenders guarded the gates, and Sokka turned back to scowl at Aang.

"This had better be worth it, Aang." He folded his arms. "That's a lot of guards."

"Don't you worry about it, sonny," Aang answered in his creaking, croaking impression of an old man. He hunched partway over and grabbed the back of Sokka's tunic. "We're here on our own business, and that's no concern of theirs. Now slow down so your old grandpa can keep up."

Katara covered her mouth to suppress a giggle, and Sokka groaned.

Aang didn't wait for the guards to approach them—he marched straight up to them, thumping his staff like a cane.

"Open up, my boy." He waved his staff under the guard's nose. "Let us through the gates."

The earthbender looked down at him, bemused. "What business do you have in Omashu, old man?"

Aang swung his staff back to point at Sokka and Katara. Sokka kept his face half-hidden in embarrassment. "Showing my grandkids the big city, of course." His false mustache wobbled, almost ready to fall from his face. Aang grabbed Sokka by the shoulders and propelled him forward. "My grandson here loves architecture."

With a stiff, pained smile, Sokka said, "Oh, yeah. I can't get enough of these—rocks. And walls."

The guard narrowed his eyes. "Likely story, grandpa."

At that, Aang's eyes brightened, and he drew himself up as tall as he could without unhunching his back. "I'm not your grandpa, sonny. My business doesn't concern you." He rapped his staff against the guard's forehead. "Now open up before I give you a real piece of my mind."

"That's enough, Grandpa," Katara said, resting a hand on Aang's shoulder. She smiled at the guards. "We don't want any trouble, sir. My brother and I are really excited to see your city."

"Right." Sokka's tone was slightly more convincing this time. "We're just visiting. And Gramps is always cranky in the morning."

"You," the guard said, pointing at Katara. "Think you can keep these two out of trouble?"

"Absolutely, sir!" Katara replied with a smile.

"Watch the attitude, young man," Aang interjected as the guard motioned for the gates to open. "Old man Bumi doesn't make trouble." He thumped toward the gate.

Katara and Sokka trailed after him as the guards glanced at each other, muttering amongst themselves.

"Nice move, Grandpa Bumi," Sokka grumbled as they rounded a corner. "Did you need to talk back to the guards like that?"

"Relax, Sokka," Aang replied in his normal voice, letting his false mustache fall to the ground. "Omashu is one of the greatest cities in the world. Nothing's going to go wrong here."

Katara couldn't help but look back over her shoulder. As much as she wanted to believe that Aang's optimism was justified—after all, he had been right about the past few days of their journey—there was a sense of uneasiness that she couldn't shake off. Maybe it was because the city gates were so heavily guarded, or maybe it was the way that the guards' eyes lingered on them a little too long once the gates finally opened, but something felt wrong about this place.

Aang was still talking, gesturing excitedly as he pointed out the stone ramps overhead. Katara tried to smile and nod along with him. But as they turned toward the upper reaches of the city, she couldn't keep herself from glancing back one more time. And for an instant, she thought she saw someone following them.

* * *

"The next time that kid tells me to relax," Sokka muttered to his sister, "remind me not to listen. I'm not letting my guard down around him again unless he's—asleep, or something. And we're on Appa, hundreds of miles from another living person. I doubt he could cause any trouble then."

"This isn't Aang's fault," Katara hissed in reply. "He had no way of knowing that this would happen."

"How do you think we got arrested in the first place? He argued with the guards!" Sokka's voice slid upward. "He should have realized—" One of the king's guards scowled at him, and Sokka lowered his voice. "Seriously, can't you do anything to get us out of here?"

Katara glared, trying to wriggle her arm inside the ever-growing sleeve of jennamite. "Quiet, Sokka."

"I'm just saying. You could always try—you know. Going glowy?"

"Shush!" Since she couldn't move her arm enough to elbow him, she rammed him with her shoulder. The second guard raised an eyebrow at her, and Katara gave her most charming smile in response.

"Bring me my Flopsy, Avatar!" the king called over the edge of the balcony. "Poor Flopsy-boy missed his din-din last night."

Aang yelled and shot a blast of air at the huge, toothy creature bounding after him. "I think he's going to be dinner in a few minutes!"

"Oh, now that isn't very cheerful," the king replied.

"See?" Sokka hissed, leaning down toward Katara's ear. "He's completely nuts. If you'd just break us out, I doubt he'd even notice."

"Shhh!"

"Well, we have to do something!"

"I know!" Katara leaned anxiously to the side to get a better view of Aang. He was holding his own against the hopping monstrosity, but he didn't seem to be getting any closer to the long-eared rabbit. "This is insane."

With a yell, Aang launched himself up over the beast and sprinted, staff in hand, toward the rabbit. The rabbit turned its head in his direction, then hopped away, unconcerned, and wedged itself into a small opening in the wall. Aang poked his head into the hole. "Flopsy!" he shouted. "Come here, boy!"

The beast skidded to a stop, making harsh snarling sounds. Aang gave a small yelp and spun back around. The beast growled and slobbered over him, but it hung few feet back. Aang cocked his head to the side.

"Flopsy?"

Drooling, the creature bounded the last few feet toward Aang and pinned him to the ground. It snuffled at him, tendrils of greasy saliva dangling from its jowls. Aang laughed and patted its wrinkled snout.

"I found Flopsy!"

"Excellent work, Avatar." The king motioned him over, and Flopsy crossed the courtyard in a few long hops. Aang scampered back toward the balcony, grinning.

"Are you guys okay?"

"Perfect," Sokka said. "I love being slowly encased in solid rock."

Katara rolled her eyes. "We're fine, Aang. Just focus on whatever his next challenge is, okay?"

"Wise advice, young waterbender." The king gave a cackling laugh. "Move quickly, Avatar. We wouldn't want your friends running out of time, now would we?"

At that moment, the crystal expanded around Sokka's arm, stretching up to the side of his face and down, clamping his hand to his leg, simultaneously. "Argh!" he yelled, nearly losing his balance in surprise.

Aang spun to face the king, eyes blazing. "You can't do this. Let my friends go!"

"Aang!" Katara grabbed his arm with her free hand. "Let's just go, okay? The sooner you finish the challenges, the sooner we can leave."

The king smiled crookedly, and Aang glared at him. "Fine," he snapped. "What's next?"

"Oh, you'll see." With a chuckle, the king waved them all after him.

The guards closed in on them, grabbing Sokka and Katara both by the shoulders.

"Hey!" Sokka turned as far back toward the guard as he could. "Take it easy. Seriously, where do you think we're going to go? If we try to run away, we'll just suffocate in a few hours anyway."

"Are you sure you guys are okay?" Aang whispered to Katara as the guards herded them back into the palace and down a corridor.

She nodded. "We're fine. Sokka's just being dramatic."

"Oh, I'm being dramatic?" Sokka's voice squeaked on the last word. "This stupid rock won't stop growing, and you won't do anything about it, but obviously I'm just being dramatic."

"We're not going to suffocate, Sokka."

"So you have a plan?" Aang asked eagerly.

Katara hesitated. "Sort of."

"She doesn't have a plan," Sokka hissed.

"Fine. I don't have a plan." Her eyes widened when the crystal suddenly spread to the side, enveloping half of her torso in an instant. "I have an idea. That's better than nothing."

"Great." Sokka tried to turn his head in her direction, but the tallest crystal jabbed him in the eyebrow. "I'm pretty sure I had the same idea, but somebody didn't want to break us out."

Aang shot a glance at Katara. "How were you going to do that?"

"Easy. Because she's the—" Sokka caught one of the guards looking at him and he corrected himself mid-sentence. "—the best waterbender I've ever met. I mean, she's also the only waterbender I've ever met, but still—"

Katara rammed him with her hip, and the king cackled. "Behave yourselves, children. If the Avatar can succeed in this last challenge, you will have nothing to worry about."

"And if I don't?" Aang snapped. "What happens then?"

The king seemed not to hear that—he led them into an enormous arena and stopped, grinning, on the spectator's platform. "Now, young Avatar," the king said and Katara stiffened involuntarily, "you will need to learn to fight very soon."

"I can already fight," Aang snapped, crossing his arms.

"That is very good. Perhaps you wouldn't mind giving me a demonstration." The king gestured to two men who flanked the door.

Katara turned around, and her heart sank. The men at the door were massive. Even the smaller of the two was taller than either of the king's guards, and what he lacked in size—compared with his companion—he made up for with the number of weapons strapped to his arms, his chest, his back. The guards themselves had vanished, but Katara hardly noticed. Their absence made no difference now that the two warriors had taken their place.

With a smile, the king clasped his hands behind his back and rocked forward on his toes. "Choose your opponent wisely, young Avatar. Remember, this duel will decide your freedom."

The thinner of the two men grinned ominously, and the broader man merely blinked.

"Choose the big one, Aang," Sokka hissed.

Aang stared, mouth half-open, at the two men. "Why would I do that?" he whispered.

"Fewer knives. And he looks slower than the other guy."

Katara shook her head. "Aang, don't rush. Take a second and make sure you make the right decision." The crystals grew downward, almost to her knee.

"Great idea, Katara. Take all the time you need." The blue crystals had now grown up to resemble a tall collar around Sokka's neck—almost a crown. "It's not like we're going to suffocate or anything."

Aang looked uneasily at the king. "Do I really have to fight someone?"

"I've never heard of any other way to duel." The king cackled. "Your friends are right, Avatar. Think carefully, but don't take too long."

"Okay. Then I want to fight you," Aang said, pointing to the king.

"Eh, heh-heh-heh-heh! Heh-heh-heh!" The king's eyes crinkled up as he laughed, then his expression went abruptly serious. "As you wish, Avatar." He straightened, tossing off his robe.

Sokka's jaw dropped, and although Katara hid it better, she was equally surprised. The king's physique would have intimidated a man a quarter of his age.

Aang let out a squeak. "I changed my mind," he said. "I want to fight the big guy instead."

"Too late, Avatar." Effortlessly, the king flung himself over the edge of the platform, and a column of stone came up to meet him halfway. "You asked for a fight with an earthbender, so a fight with an earthbender is what you'll get."

"It was nice knowing you, Aang." Sokka whispered. Aang looked back at him, wide-eyed.

"You can do this," Katara said. "Just be careful."

The guards reappeared, one carrying Aang's staff, the other lugging the lop-eared rabbit in a cage. Still wide-eyed, Aang accepted the staff and hovered down to the floor of the arena.

Anxious, Katara shuffled closer to the railing. It was difficult to tell who struck the first blow of the duel, because in an instant, Aang was launching himself into the air, staff swinging wildly as the king threw boulder after boulder in his direction. Her jaw clenched, and she slid back toward her brother.

"We have to get rid of the guards," Katara hissed.

Sokka's eyes were fixed on the fight below them. "What?"

A boulder flew toward Aang's head, and Katara winced as he dodged to the side. "We're going to help Aang."

"So you want a distraction?"

She nodded.

"On it." Since he was unable to turn his head, Sokka turned fully around to face the guards. "So… uh. What's with the rabbit?"

The guard glanced down at the cage. "It's one of the King's pets."

"Right. So this must be Flopsy Junior." The comment earned him a glare, but Sokka persisted. "Are Smashy and Slashy on guard duty too?"

The two warriors glowered at him too.

"No," the broader man—apparently Smashy—answered.

"We're here to duel, nothing else." Slashy added.

"So why are you still here?" Katara asked. "Aang's fighting the king. He doesn't need you two here now."

The warriors glanced at one another.

"Right!" Sokka looked excited for an instant before the crystals expanded again, stopping short at his chin and his eyebrows, then stretching upward instead. He froze for an instant, then let out a small, nervous breath. "You guys must have something more important to do than watch two kids turn into statues."

Smashy rubbed his chin. "We do have a tournament to train for."

"You should do that." Katara tried to shift her weight, but her legs would no longer bend—the crystal had almost reached her ankles now. Her eyes flicked between the warriors and her brother. The jennamite was coming dangerously close to blocking off his nose and mouth—she would have to act quickly once the guards were gone. "We're not going anywhere."

Slashy looked at Smashy and shrugged. As they turned to leave, Sokka turned just enough to smirk in Katara's direction. "Two down, two to go," he whispered. "You'd better have a plan after that."

"Get rid of the guards and you'll see," Katara hissed in response.

"Oh, no!" Sokka said loudly, maneuvering himself toward the rabbit's cage. "This cage looks pretty flimsy." He couldn't move his head in any way, but his legs were still mostly free. Tipping from side to side with each step, he lumbered into the cage. "Whoops." With a clang, the cage tipped over. The door didn't open, and the rabbit rolled up onto its feet again, looking offended. "Uh." Sokka's upper half tipped into the wall, and he kicked at the cage.

"Hey!" One of the guards stepped forward. "What are you trying to pull, kid?"

"Nothing!" Sokka kicked the cage harder, and the door caved in. The rabbit hefted itself onto its hind legs and poked its head through the opening. Its nose twitched, and it tumbled out onto the floor. After a pause of an instant, it took off at top speed down the corridor.

"Flopsy Junior is escaping!" Sokka shouted. "I don't think the king would be very happy if he lost another pet today! You two had better catch him!"

"Princess Fluffer!" One of the guards shouted, and in an instant, both men were out the door, sprinting after the rabbit.

"That was your distraction?" Katara snapped. "Really smooth, Sokka."

"It worked, didn't it?" He couldn't straighten, so he rolled against the wall until he faced his sister again. "You can complain about my methods after you break us out."

Taking a deep breath, Katara closed her eyes. Her heart was racing despite her best efforts to calm herself. She kept imagining Sokka's expression when the crystals closed in so close around his face—the flash of horror, though short, was overpowering.

"Are you doing it? Are you going glowy?"

Her eyes snapped open again, and her concern dissipated to make room for annoyance. "I don't think I can do it if you can't shut up!"

"Fine," Sokka grumbled, and Katara closed her eyes again, doing her best to concentrate.

She didn't know how to do this. She remembered the absolute clarity and calm that came over her when she had gone into the Avatar State before, but try as she might, she couldn't recapture that feeling. She was scared. The harder she tried to concentrate, the more she could feel the crystal closing in tighter around her chest, creeping down toward the floor as if to root her in place, and up over her shoulders, spreading toward her face. And she could hear everything. She couldn't block it out the way that Aang did when he meditated—she heard the duel, the rumbling of the ground shifting and breaking apart, and the roar of the wind as Aang did his best to hold his own against the king. And she could hear Sokka—despite her insistence that he stay quiet, he kept making little grunts and mumbles as the fight continued.

And then there was a muffled shout. Katara opened her eyes. Her brother's nose and mouth were entirely encased in blue jennamite. _No._ She tried to approach him, but her legs would no longer move. For a horrible, endless moment, she could do nothing but watch Sokka's eyes grow wider as he ran out of breath.

"Sokka!" And then she felt it. The light, the clarity, the calm washed over her, and without effort, without thought, she raised her arms from her sides. Hundreds of green shards burst from her limbs, and an instant later, she was on the opposite side of the platform, tearing long, jagged strips of crystal off her brother until he was free. Sokka drew in a long, sharp breath and staggered, rubbing at his face and his arms.

Katara was left reeling too—her consciousness slammed back into her own body, and the void left behind by the power of the Avatar State was immediately filled by an aching tiredness. But when her eyes met Sokka's, the tiredness didn't matter so much.

"I did it!" Katara said throwing her arms around Sokka's neck. "We're okay!"

"Yeah." Sokka caught his breath and returned her hug for a second before shoving her away. "Give me a hand here," he said, crouching to gather up the fallen pieces of crystal.

"What are you doing?" Katara hissed, halfway to the railing. She wasn't sure how she was going to get down to the base of the arena—she had come out of the Avatar State too quickly to think about airbending them down or earthbending a set of stairs to the ground. Maybe if she could find enough water, she could freeze it into some sort of ramp?

"I'm blocking the door." Sokka wedged one of the shards crossways into the doorway and swung his armload of crystals to beckon her back. "Aang's doing fine avoiding the king, but he'll need help to beat him. I'm buying us some time."

"Sokka, that's a dumb idea. There are earthbenders all over Omashu! For all we know, the guards are earthbenders too!"

He shot a glare back over his shoulder. "It's only a dumb idea if it doesn't work. Are you gonna help or not?"

With a groan, Katara scooped up one of the crystals and shoved it diagonally into the wooden frame. Under their combined grasp, the shards expanded, splintering the wood trim and embedding themselves into the surrounding stone.

"Just a few more," Sokka muttered, frowning with concentration. Katara passed a heavy slab-like piece to him, and he jammed it into place. "Perfect." Grinning, he looked back at his sister as the crystals expanded again, closing the last remaining openings. "Let's see Smashy bash his way through that."

"Nice work, Sokka. You're going to feel pretty silly when the regular guards break through." She handed a stubby, club-like chunk of crystal to Sokka and selected a longer piece for herself. "Now let's go help Aang."

Sokka hefted his translucent club onto his shoulder and joined Katara at the edge of the balcony. Neither the King nor Aang so much as glanced in their direction.

"After you, Avatar."

Katara gave him a fierce look, but obliged, swinging one leg, then the other over the railing, and lowering herself until she was dangling by her fingers from the bottom of the platform. It was still a fair distance to the ground—but taking a breath, she dropped, tumbling to her knees. Sokka followed a moment behind her, less graceful, but somehow more energetic in his drop to the ground. He landed almost flat on his back and sprang to his feet without a moment's pause.

"Remember," Sokka whispered into her ear. "Don't make a sound until you're close enough to strike."

"Sokka, we're dealing with an earthbender, not a leopard seal."

"Just shhhh!" Baring his makeshift crystal club, he darted forward, ducking and dodging from side to side to avoid the flying stones as they drew closer to the fight.

Katara hesitated before following him—this was Zuko all over again. She wanted to fight, she needed to fight, but she didn't quite know how. The shard of crystal that she had chosen as her weapon was a decent enough replacement for Sokka's hunting spears—or it had been before it abruptly doubled in width—and yet she couldn't picture any confrontation with the king ending well without the help of the Avatar State. And while she had just accessed the power, she was convinced that it was by no means a matter of free will.

Aang saw them approaching, but when Sokka held a finger to his lips, Aang dragged his eyes away, dodging to the side. With a wild swing of his staff, he shot a blast of air at the king. The king threw a stone column in the way of the gust, and the wind swirled out to the side instead. Katara couldn't help but gasp at the force of the gust when it struck her—it was all she could do to jam the sharper end of her makeshift spear into the ground to keep herself from falling. Sokka wasn't so lucky. The blast knocked him into his backside, and he slid until he was beside his sister again.

The moment the wind subsided, they were both up again, darting forward as Aang struck again, his attack more focused this time. While Sokka approached the king from behind, Katara ducked behind an elevated stone ridge and scrambled toward Aang. She reached the end of the ridge just as Aang finally came within striking distance of the king. The airbender whipped his staff toward the king in triumph, seeming not to notice that a boulder the size of Appa's head was hovering over him. Katara managed to catch her brother's eye for an instant—Sokka gestured wildly, waving his arms and nodding. It certainly wasn't _subtle_ , but the signal to move was unmistakable. While Sokka leapt onto the king's back, club bared, Katara darted from her hiding place and wedged her shard of crystal into the ground. The king gave an odd, almost animalistic croak of surprise, and the stone dropped—though the crystal held it up at an angle just long enough for Katara to wrap an arm around Aang's waist and drag him clear of it before the shimmering pillar failed.

The king shook Sokka off, and he fell with a yell. Aang sprang back into a fighting stance, pointing his staff at the king, and Katara came to his side, mimicking his stance. There was no water for her to bend in the immediate area—she would have felt it if there were—and earthbending deliberately without the help of the Avatar State didn't seem likely, but she could try. Between the three of them, they might have a chance.

For a second, they stood tense, staring at the king, not daring to strike first. Sokka scrambled back to his feet and came to stand at Katara's side, still wielding his crystalline club, which had doubled in length and now looked more like an oar for their old canoe than a weapon.

And then the king chuckled. Low at first, almost a sensible laugh, then sliding upward, growing manic and punctuated by snorts. Katara shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Aang, then at Sokka. They both looked as bewildered as her.

"Eh-heh-heh-heh-heh!" The king snorted, bending over to slap his knobby knee. "That'll teach me! He-heh-heh-heh! Avatar indeed! Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh!"

"Let us go!" Aang shouted, jabbing his staff toward the king's face. "I'm not finishing your challenges. My friends and I are leaving, and that's final."

The king looked toward the balcony—which had been the arena's only open entrance. The crystals had expanded even farther, forming a great, jagged bulge of blue and green. "I'm sure you could do just that, young Avatar." His eyes fixed back on Aang, then landed on Katara. "I have no doubt that you have the ability to break yourselves out."

"We're going to!" Katara announced, sounding far more confident than she felt. "Come on, guys. We're leaving." As they edged back around the king, side-by-side, still poised to fight, she glanced at the balcony again. She didn't have the faintest idea of how they were going to get back up there—to say nothing of how they would break through the jennamite—but there had to be a way. If it took a week, they would find a way out.

"How?" Aang asked in an undertone. "You can't just— _use_ the Avatar State, can you?"

Katara shot a glare in his direction, but Sokka missed the look and answered on her behalf.

"Hard to tell. She _tried_ to just do it, but it didn't work until I started suffocating."

"Sokka!"

The king continued watch them, his bushy eyebrows shifting up and down with each word that passed between the children. "Suffocating, you say?"

Aang planted himself in place, pointing his staff at the old man's well-built chest. "That was the idea, wasn't it? Crystals that grow to _completely cover_ my friends? What were you expecting?" He paused, confusion overtaking the rage in his eyes. "Wait. _That's_ the part you're going to comment on?"

The old man shrugged. "I have never known a waterbender to have the ability to shatter jennamite. Give an old man credit for having an imagination." Though his eyes remained as wild as ever, the king's tone took on more gravity than before as he faced Sokka. "You would have been wise, young warrior, to not drive away my guards."

Sokka folded his arms, letting his piece of crystal—now almost the size of a young tree—drop. The implication was clear enough. The guards must have been holding the growth of the jennamite back from their faces. "How were we supposed to know that? Your Royal Craziness didn't seem to have a problem putting _Aang's_ life in danger, why not ours?"

"The Avatar," the king replied, looking between Aang and Katara, his hands clasped behind his back, "will face far greater foes than an old earthbenders. Greater dangers than these tests as well." He rocked forward onto his toes, his expression becoming slightly crazed again. "But if you agree to answer one simple question, the city of Omashu may be able to offer you some very valuable assistance."

Katara planted her hands on her hips, staring mistrustfully at the king.

"What kind of help are we talking?" Sokka asked.

"To begin with, an easy way out of this arena," the king croaked. They all glanced at the balcony, which was gradually being taken over by the crystals' growth. "And," he added. "The North Pole is a long way off. My kingdom can offer supplies to help on the journey."

Aang lowered his staff a fraction and exchanged a look with Katara. They had been doing fine so far, but the farther they ventured from the South Pole, the more obvious it became that being equipped for life on the ice wouldn't be sufficient for their _whole_ journey. "What sort of question is it?"

The king grinned, his eyes and his smile going wild again. "My question is for you, Aang. I want you to tell me my name."

"Huh?" Aang glanced from Sokka to Katara, then back at the king. "You mean you forgot your name?"

"Seems about right," Sokka said, narrowing his eyes.

"No." The king rubbed his chin. "Not today, at least. Now, tell me, Aang. What is my name?"

"How am I supposed to know? Everyone just calls you 'Your Majesty' all the time."

Katara grabbed Aang by the elbow and pulled him a few paces back. "Come on, Aang, there has to be a reason he's asking you instead of us."

"Right!" Sokka came around to Aang's other side. "He must have given us a hint that only you would understand."

"So what do we know about him?" Katara said. Nothing stuck out to her as particularly meaningful.

"Well," Sokka volunteered, "He named one of his pets Flopsy, and another one Princess Fluffer. And Flopsy could have killed you if he wanted, and Princess Fluffer was just a lop-eared rabbit."

Aang raised an eyebrow at him. "And what exactly does that tell me?"

Sokka considered that for a second. "That he's a really weird old man?"

Rolling her eyes, Katara shook her head. "That's very helpful, Sokka. Thanks." Turning her attention to Aang, she went on, "You've been here before, Aang. Maybe it has something to do with that. Were there any really common names in Omashu? Or did you know anything about the royal family?"

"I don't know." Aang looked up and the king grinned at him. Aang squinted thoughtfully. "Exactly how old are you?"

"I'm told that I look good for my age," the king answered with a cackle. "Go on now. Put the pieces together." He rocked from his heels to his toes a few times. "What is my name?"

If anything, Aang looked more confused than before, but he cocked his head to the side. "Bumi?" Despite his uncertainty, it didn't sound like a guess. His tone was more—hopeful than that.

The king's smile grew slightly less manic. "It's been a very long time, Aang."

As Aang ran forward to give his old friend a hug, Sokka smacked his forehead with his palm. "So your old friend from a hundred years ago is the king? You forgot that you were friends with the crown prince?"

"I wasn't the crown prince in those days, young man," King Bumi answered. "My father was. And that is a very easy fact to forget after a hundred years."

"But it hasn't been a hundred years for Aang! He was _frozen_ for a hundred years—he thought he had only been gone a few days when we found him."

Katara nudged her brother. The reunion—as strange and lopsided as it looked, seeing the twelve-year-old embrace a man more than old enough to be her great-grandfather—was sweet. Aang had lost so much, but at least he had this. "Relax, Sokka. It all worked out."

Sokka grabbed her arm. "Don't you see? Aang got us arrested. By impersonating the King! Because he forgot that his old friend was the prince!"

"Oops," Aang said with a sheepish smile.

Sokka shook his head. "You'd better watch yourself, kid. Next time you get us in trouble like this, I will seriously tie you to Appa's saddle until we get to the North Pole."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Well, this chapter definitely took a lot longer than I hoped. For anyone who's been waiting, thanks for sticking around! I can't say that I'm particularly fond of this chapter, but after several months of being busy in real life and getting distracted by every passing shiny object, at least it's _done_.

I've made a start on Chapter 8 (and I have an actual _outline_ this time, which helps the process a lot—and frankly, I missed writing my favorite firebenders—I'm really excited to pull them back in next time!), so I'm hoping to get that one done faster than Chapter 7 (I'm going to try to have this thing ready in 3 weeks or so). Oh, the joys of starting this incredibly long fic from the very beginning. Don't get me wrong, I love the beginning of Season 1, it's just that basically every story was _so_ disconnected from the one that followed that it's quite a balancing act to write the characters reasonably consistently while dealing with the extra Avatar. Not to mention the fact that events will start diverging more from canon within 4-5 chapters, and there's a lot of necessary development that I have to squeeze in before then. So I hope you all stick around, but there might be some waiting involved while I iron out the details.

As always, reviews are much appreciated!

Thanks for reading,

SooperSara

 **Chapter 8: Coming soon!**


	8. Water: The Haishui Prison Rig: Part 1

**Water**

 **The Haishui Prison Rig: Part 1**

"You can knock it off with the waterbending any time now," Sokka said, wiping a few droplets from the side of his face. "Really. It wouldn't bother me a bit."

"Well, it'd be okay with me if you would stop complaining." Katara frowned in concentration as she reshaped her floating orb of water into a vertical disc. She didn't need to look at her scroll to practice this form anymore. It was thoroughly engrained after her week-long focus on it. The water twisted into a jagged ring, and she slowed for a second to launch it at a nearby tree. Not too bad. Her accuracy was improving, but she couldn't seem to get the water moving fast enough to make an impact.

Sokka groaned and grabbed her by the elbow. "Katara, we're _walking_. Can't you just walk?"

She stuck her tongue out at him and drew the water back toward her as she resumed walking. Momo hopped from Sokka's shoulder to hers, and she yelped in surprise. The water flew out of her control, spilling down the front of her dress.

Sokka flailed his arms. "Augh! Seriously? You keep getting me all wet!"

Pulling the water out of her clothes, she glared at him. "Six drops hit you. I think you'll live."

"Six drops _in my eye_!" He made a show of scrubbing at his face with his sleeve. "Why does _your_ practice always make problems for me?"

Katara frowned, funneling her water back into the flask at her hip. "Maybe you're just standing too close. Besides, when _you_ were learning how to throw your stupid boomerang, you almost broke my arm. Or did you forget about that?"

" _Almost_. And that was _years_ ago. You froze me to the ground six times this week."

She opened her mouth to reply, but Aang looked back over his shoulder. "Come on, guys, fighting isn't helping anything. Can't we just get along?"

Katara glanced at Sokka, who raised his eyebrow in return. This wasn't fighting, this was—squabbling. At most. Fighting was what happened when Katara stole some of Sokka's seal jerky and got tackled for her troubles, or when Sokka made fun of her bending and she retaliated with uncoordinated lashes of water and snow that were more likely to cause harm to her than her brother. Or worse yet, when one of them got so angry at the other that they didn't speak for an entire afternoon. Gran-Gran always scolded them soundly for fighting, but a squabble hardly warranted a cross look.

Sokka looked as though he wanted to comment, but he shook his head and jogged a few steps ahead to catch up with Aang. "Come on, Aang, can't we just climb up on Appa and fly the rest of the way? At least _then_ all of her water just flies off the back of the saddle when she screws up."

Aang quirked an eyebrow at him. "Walking was _your_ idea, Sokka."

"I said that landing a ten-ton furry monster in the middle of town was a bad idea. That didn't mean I wanted you to land ten miles away and make us walk the rest of the way. Landing just on the other side of the hill would have been good enough."

"Well, we're almost there now." Aang looked back at Katara, grinning. "And then we can find a place for you to practice."

Katara smiled and caught up to the boys. "You can practice with me too, Aang. I know I'm not a master, but I could still show you a few things. And then Sokka can find us some food like he promised," she prodded. Momo chattered as if in agreement and hopped down from her shoulder to curl up in her arms.

Sokka spun to face her, doing an odd sideways step to keep pace while he spoke. "Hey! I'm a hunter. That doesn't really help us when Aang here won't eat meat."

"That is _not_ Aang's fault! Maybe somebody just needs to learn how to eat fruits and vegetables sometimes." Again, Momo screeched. "See? Momo agrees with me."

Narrowing his eyes at the lemur, Sokka hissed, "Traitor." Head held high, Sokka spun forward again, and his foot caught on a root. "Ahhh!" He toppled forward.

Katara laughed, but Aang turned back, eyes wide. "Guys! Do you hear that?"

"What? The sound of Sokka eating his own words?"

"Hey!" Sokka kicked at her, and she hopped over his foot.

Aang waved his arms. "No! Shhh! Can't you guys hear that?"

Sokka stood, and both siblings were quiet. There was an odd rumbling coming from the right, somewhere downhill from where they stood.

"Do you think it's firebenders?" Sokka asked in a whisper.

Katara shook her head. "That doesn't sound like fire to me." Flames were quieter than that, in her experience. With fire, there would be whooshes of moving air, crackles and roars of extreme heat, but this was different, more defined. There were sharp cracks and deep, resounding thuds, more reminiscent of King Bumi's bending than anything else.

A slow grin spread across her face. Earthbenders weren't a threat. Without a second thought, she took off at a run, dodging between the trees toward the rumbling. Sokka yelled after her, and she thought she heard the boys following. Good. As curious as she was about finding an earthbender in the middle of the woods, she didn't savor the idea of finding her way back to Aang and Sokka alone once she was done investigating.

At the rim of a broad gully, she stopped. Her guess was right. A boy raised a boulder twice his size off the ground and sent it sailing into the far side of the gully. Katara smiled. Watching King Bumi's earthbending had been incredible, but there was something far less unnerving about the art when it didn't come from a wild-eyed, unnaturally muscular centenarian.

"Hello!" She called down to the earthbender. "This is amazing! I've never met a kid who could earthbend before!"

The boy let a second boulder drop and looked up at her. Sokka and Aang caught back up with Katara and stopped at her side.

"I'm Katara, and this is my brother, Sokka, and our friend, Aang." She smiled and crouched, searching for a handhold to lower herself into the gully. "It's so nice to meet you! What's your name?" She found a root to hold and swung herself down. Sokka clambered down the bank after her, and Aang hovered to the ground a second behind them.

But the earthbender wasn't listening. In fact, he hadn't even waited for them to reach the bottom of the ravine. By the time that Katara turned to face him, he was sprinting away, and he pulled a small avalanche down behind him to seal off his retreat. Katara stared after him, speechless.

"Nice one, Katara." Sokka bumped her with his shoulder. "You sure know how to make friends."

She would have turned to glare, but she was too bewildered by the earthbender's sudden flight.

"I wonder what he's running from." Aang scratched his head.

"He probably saw that crazy look Katara gets when she gets too excited about bending," Sokka said. He folded his arms, looking smug.

"Katara doesn't look crazy!" Aang said defensively. "She's—" His cheeks turned pink when Sokka fixed him with a confused stare.

"Thank you, Aang," Katara said primly, then stuck her tongue out at her brother.

Sokka's eyebrows had crept dangerously near his hairline, and his forehead creased with effort as he lowered them. He shook his head slightly and turned back to Katara. "Anyway. You ran up and _yelled_ at him. I'd run away if you did that to me."

She glared at him this time, but maybe Sokka had a point. Maybe she had been too eager.

"Let's just keep moving." Sokka unfolded his arms and adjusted the straps of his pack. "We'll all feel better about life once we've had something to eat."

* * *

They were farther from the village than Aang seemed to think, but leaving Appa in the gully turned out to be a wise choice. They reached the end of the forest not long after, and from there on, there was nothing but exposed earth until the village.

"I want to look for him," Katara announced once they'd wandered their way to the marketplace.

"What?" Sokka dropped the fishhook kit he'd been examining and spun to face her. Good. They didn't have enough money to buy every _manly_ accessory he laid eyes on, and he had more than enough fishhooks already. "Are you crazy? Why?"

She planted her hands on her hips. "I want to apologize. You said that I scared him, and you might be right, so I should apologize."

Sokka slapped his forehead. "Katara, _of course_ I'm right, but that's not the point."

"What's not the point?" Aang bounced up to them, grinning from beneath a broad straw hat.

"Katara wants to stalk an earthbender so she can 'apologize.'" Sokka made exaggerated finger quotes and rolled his eyes. "Like I believe that excuse."

"It's not an excuse!" Katara threw her hands out to the sides. Well, maybe it was a bit of an excuse. She was curious to meet an earthbender nearer her own age, but at least she didn't have smoochy ulterior motives like Sokka had with Suki. "And I'm not _stalking_ anyone!"

With a magnanimous smile, Aang shrugged. "We could look around for a while. It might be a good idea to talk to an earthbender."

Before Katara had a chance to agree—or rather, to gloat—a man in red stepped around the corner, glowering down his crooked nose at the children.

"What's this about earthbenders?" the solider demanded. His voice was reedy, and a shiver ran down Katara's spine.

Aang opened his mouth to reply, but Sokka threw an arm around the younger boy's shoulders and clamped a hand over his mouth. "Nothing. We didn't say anything about earthbenders, why would we do that?" His voice slid a little higher with every word. "That's just silly. We were talking about—" He froze and looked to Katara for assistance.

"About… fruit vendors!" The soldier was staring a little too intently at Sokka, who still hadn't removed his hand from Aang's mouth. Katara forced a smile and pried the boys apart. "Sorry, sir. We're looking for something to eat, and these two have been arguing about it all morning."

"Arguing about fruit vendors?" The soldier wouldn't stop eyeing them, and it made her skin crawl.

She nodded, keeping the smile plastered to her face with considerable effort. "Yes, sir. My brother didn't want to eat fruit."

Sokka's shoulders relaxed as he caught her meaning. "Fruit isn't real food. I'm a growing boy, I need meat."

It was easier to keep her expression neutral with Sokka's cooperation, but Aang's confused look worried her. She grabbed Aang by the shoulders and turned him around. "Exactly! Sorry about the commotion. We won't keep you any longer." She steered Aang toward a side street, and when he looked back, attempting to speak, Sokka propelled them both until they were out of sight.

"What in the world is the Fire Nation doing here?" Sokka hissed when they were several blocks away.

"Maybe they're visiting," Aang offered hopefully. "It was only one guy, he could be shopping like us."

Considering the man's uniform, his armor, that seemed unlikely. But before Katara could respond, a familiar boy in green hurried across the street and disappeared into a shop. She grabbed her brother's arm. "That's him! That's the boy!"

Sokka followed her gaze, then shot her a withering look. "So? We're not going to follow him just because you're feeling nosy."

Aang looked a little disappointed, and a smile snuck across Katara's face. "Oh, would you look at that? A store that might sell food! Just what we've been looking for!" Giving Aang a mischievous grin, she snatched the coin pouch from Sokka's waistband. "What do you think, Aang? Wanna find out what they sell in there?"

* * *

As much as Sokka grumbled about following the earthbender, even he couldn't find much to complain about once they'd done it. Haru was friendly, and his mother, Suong, agreed to let them sleep in the barn. Katara couldn't decide whether Suong acted more out of pity for three children traveling alone or out of fear they might reveal Haru's secret. Either way, Katara didn't care. After having to set and reset the tents night after night, sleeping inside would make for a nice change.

When Haru excused himself to do his chores, she left the boys to finish the unpacking and followed him. Sokka narrowed his eyes in suspicion as she passed, but she turned up her nose at him. If she wanted to talk to Haru, none of Sokka's raised eyebrows or insinuations would stop her.

"I'm sorry I got you in trouble," she said, joining him at the gate of the moo-sow pen.

Haru smiled back at her as he unlatched the gate and stepped sideways between two of the moo-sows. "I'm not in trouble." He paused, frowning, as one of the animals rammed into his legs. "At least I don't think I am."

"I'm glad." She trailed along the fence as Haru scooped up a bucket of grain and poured it into a trough. "I can't believe you can't just practice your earthbending," Katara said quietly. "I'm not very good waterbending, but at least I don't have to _hide_ it."

"Yeah." Haru scratched a particularly affectionate moo-sow behind the ear. "It's been this way since I was little. I hate it. The Fire Nation's been here for years, and no one even tries to fight them anymore."

"They used to?"

Haru nodded. "Mom says we held them off for almost a month. My dad was one of the best. He was one of the last earthbenders they captured when they took over."

Katara looked down, hand coming to rest on her necklace by instinct. "I'm sorry. I lost my mother too."

"She was captured?"

With a slow sigh, Katara shook her head. "Killed." As it always did, her throat grew uncomfortably tight.

Haru's eyes softened. "I'm so sorry, Katara."

She sniffed, forcing a smile before her eyes could well up. "So—your dad is a good earthbender, huh?"

"He's one of the best. I learned a lot from him." A small smile played across his lips, and Katara's stomach fluttered. Okay, so maybe Sokka's suspicions weren't _entirely_ unfounded. Haru was very pleasant to look at.

"That must have been nice." She turned her face away—she couldn't tell whether she was blushing or not, but she was taking no chances. "Everything I know I've had to figure out on my own. I was the first waterbender born in the South Pole for decades." She folded her arms, leaning on the fence. "I have a copy of a waterbending scroll, but it still leaves a lot for me to figure out on my own."

Haru studied her. "What if you didn't have to do it alone?" His eyes brightened. "I have an idea."

* * *

"You realize you two are asking for trouble, right?" Sokka reclined against the trunk of a tree, picking his teeth with a twig. Momo hopped on his chest and tried to pry the twig from his hand. Sokka shook the lemur off and tossed a pebble across the clearing.

Haru looked up from Katara's scroll. "We should be fine. The soldiers don't leave town very often, and when they do, it's mostly to check on the mines. I don't think they'd ever have a reason to come here."

Katara settled down beside him and peeked over his shoulder at the scroll. This wasn't Haru's typical practice spot, but the stream he'd taken them to was small enough that she was inclined to agree. There was a larger stream less than a mile from town—farther than this one, but a more practical water supply. Besides, they wouldn't be here more than a few hours.

Momo sniffed at the pebble Sokka had thrown and picked it up, chittering. Sokka started to reply when Momo leapt onto his chest again and thrust the rock into Sokka's mouth. He spat it out and swiped his sleeve across his mouth. "Rocks aren't food, Momo."

Katara shook her head and turned back to Haru. "I know the drawings aren't great." She reached around him and pointed to the wave form she'd tried to master on Kyoshi Island. "I can do this one, but it's kind of slow, and my aim isn't very good." Her finger trailed down to the disc-throwing form. "And I have the shape of this one down, but I can't hit anything hard enough to leave a mark. There are a few things I've learned on my own, but they haven't helped with the rest of the scroll." She frowned. Two barely passable forms out of eighty-six. Making such slow progress was humiliating.

"I still say we'd be better off waiting until we get to the North Pole." Aang lounged a few feet away from Sokka, making a few leaves whirl in a tornado over his head. "You can't learn waterbending from an earthbender."

Katara's jaw tightened, and she didn't turn around. That was well enough for Aang. He had his airbending—he could afford to wait. But until Katara learned more waterbending, she was all but defenseless. Maybe Aang was right and Haru wouldn't be able to help her, but she would not turn down the opportunity to try. Nothing could really go wrong so long as she didn't accidentally earthbend and reveal herself as the Avatar.

Haru glanced back at Aang. "I don't see what it could hurt. Neither of us has a teacher right now. Who knows? Maybe I'll learn something from Katara instead."

She grinned and hopped to her feet. "Why don't I show you what I can do so far? And if you have any ideas—"

Rolling up the scroll, Haru nodded. "Let's see what you've got."

At first, she stuck close to the forms she already knew while Haru watched in relative silence. Her wave was more powerful and more accurate than the last time she'd practiced, and the throwing disk took shape with almost no effort, though it still landed with an ineffectual splash. Then Haru suggested that she adjust her stance to put more power behind her throw, and when Katara tried, the stream froze solid for twenty paces in either direction.

It took a few more tries before they determined that the effects of Haru's earthbending techniques were too unpredictable to be much use in refining what she'd learned from her scroll. Most of his motions were too abrupt to react properly with water, but she was still intrigued by the way her bending changed when she attempted to mimic him. Katara tossed the scroll to her brother, and despite his protests, returned to the stream.

For a while, Haru stood off to the side, cautious as he watched Katara's experimenting, but before long, he fell in step with her, practicing his own forms and occasionally attempting to replicate one of hers. She couldn't help but smile. It felt good to have someone to practice with.

She didn't notice when Sokka sat up suddenly, staring off into the trees. Nor did she notice when Sokka nudged Aang and both boys crept off into the bushes.

But she did notice when two men in red armor came crashing into the clearing. She froze, and her water splashed into the dust of the creekbed. Beside her, Haru stopped bending and spun to see what she was staring at.

"You! Boy!" One of the soldiers jabbed a finger at Haru. "You're from the mining village, aren't you?"

The panic faded from Haru's eyes, and his expression darkened. He took a step back toward Katara and gave a single nod.

There might have been a sneer beneath the soldier's thick mustache, but it was difficult to know for sure. "Then you should know better." Both men closed in on Haru.

"No!" Katara ran forward and tried to push the firebenders away. The mustached soldier glared down at her and the other shoved her so hard that she landed several feet behind Haru. The second man—middle aged, with receding hair—advanced a step, blade-like flames protruding from his fists.

"You can't do this!" Katara yelled, scrambling back to her feet. "You can't arrest him! Haru isn't doing anything wrong!" She whipped her head around, looking for support from Aang and Sokka, but they were nowhere to be seen.

"That's where you're wrong, girly." One of the fire daggers swung at her, and Katara yelped, reflexively throwing a wave at the man's hand. The flame fizzled out, and the firebender snarled, reigniting the blaze without so much as a pause.

Katara fought. She tossed wave after wave at the soldier, furious, uncoordinated lashes of water punctuating her attempts at real forms. But as hard as she tried, she couldn't drive the man back—Katara was forced to retreat instead, her attacks only serving well enough to keep the flames from striking her directly. And before long, even that was beyond her. Fighting was tiring, especially when her instincts were her only guiding force. She didn't know enough about firebending, or waterbending for that matter, to counterattack. All she could do was throw water at the flames she saw and hope it was enough to stop the burning.

When the mustached soldier joined the assault, Katara froze just long enough to look back at Haru. He was shackled and stood, sullen and downcast, between a second pair of Fire Nation soldiers. That pause was enough—a blast knocked her off her feet, and before Katara had time to react, her hands were chained too.

* * *

 _Shit_. Sokka heard the firebenders coming before anyone else and crept off into the woods hoping to find out how many there were. If he was quick enough, he could cause a disturbance loud enough to draw the firebenders away and warn Katara and Haru of the danger at the same time.

He wasn't quick enough. The first two firebenders reached his sister before Sokka got a good look at them, and although she and Haru both put up a fight, a second pair of firebenders overwhelmed Haru with ease. Katara only lasted a few seconds longer.

 _Shit_. Sokka crouched in the bushes, watching as the firebenders roughly dragged his sister to her feet and shoved her until she stood beside Haru again. Aang peered over his shoulder, eyes wide.

"Sokka, we have to help them!" the younger boy whispered.

Pressing a finger to his lips, Sokka clenched his jaw. Katara should have known better than this. As far as they knew, there wasn't a law against waterbending here, but defending a known earthbender had to be illegal. Probably. It was never a good idea to fight Fire Nation soldiers, in any case. If it weren't for her stupid temper, the firebenders might have let Katara go. Of course, that would have left Haru to face the soldiers alone, but this whole training exercise had been _his_ idea in the first place. And he _lived_ here. Just because Katara had gone all bleeding-heart on the earthbender didn't mean that the boy couldn't—or shouldn't—have been the voice of reason. Sokka had tried, but it was hard to be the voice of reason when his sister wouldn't listen to anyone but Haru.

Katara yelled something about how terrible the Fire Nation was and tried to kick one of the soldiers in the shin. She missed, but the soldier summoned a tongue of flame and raised it close to her face in retaliation. _Damn it_. There was a slight chance that he and Aang could have taken the four firebenders in a sneak attack, but with the flame so close to his sister's face, he couldn't take that risk.

"Sokka, what are we going to do?"

He shook his head and grabbed Aang by the arm. Trying to ignore the sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach, Sokka dragged Aang back from the clearing.

"We're going to get Appa," Sokka said darkly. "And then we're going to get my sister back."

* * *

The shackles were heavy, and they chafed against her wrists as she walked. But the firebenders hadn't separated her and Haru, so that was a relief, at least. If she was being arrested— _for real_ , because being arrested in Omashu didn't exactly count—at least she didn't have to be alone.

"I still think it's a bad idea to take the girl," one of the guards announced from behind her. "The rig's designed to hold earthbenders, not ice-rats."

"Have a better idea?" There was a livid red bruise forming under Receding Hairline's eye. Katara hoped that she had caused that bruise. In fact, she hoped they _all_ had bruises from fighting her. Lots of them.

Mustache Man appeared to be the leader of the little firebending troop—he turned a glare on each of the others. "Resistance is to be punished. The ice-rat will be taken to the rig with the earthbender. She won't be able to bend as long as her hands are bound." His orange eyes narrowed as they fixed on Katara. "The warden will have to decide what to do with her from there."

Katara bristled and briefly considered spitting at him. She was a waterbender, she ought to be able to spit that far—but she thought better of it. Instead, she steeled herself and met his gaze. "What's the rig?"

Haru nudged her with his elbow and shook his head, wide-eyed.

Mustache Man looked almost amused. "The Haishui Rig will be your home until we decide what to do with you. And if you know what's good for you, you'll mind your tongue."

Katara glanced Haru's direction, and he met her eyes briefly. Fine. If it meant that they wouldn't be separated, she'd stay quiet. For now.

* * *

Zuko tried to keep his focus on the gameboard. Uncle had promised a more in-depth training session today if Zuko first indulged the old man in a game of Pai Sho. He should have known that the game wouldn't be enough, though. Apparently, Iroh now expected him to "enjoy" a cup of some sort of calming tea while they played. Zuko would have been wiser to settle for another sparring session with Lieutenant Jee instead.

"Interesting choice, Prince Zuko." Iroh rubbed his chin, staring at the tile Zuko had just placed. "I must admit, I am unfamiliar with that particular strategy. What do you call it?"

Zuko narrowed his eyes. _I call it throwing the game,_ he thought. Pai Sho was not one of his strong suits, but he'd hoped that that would work in his favor. If he pretended to play along, he could lose the game and get on with his training quicker. Unfortunately, Iroh was making that difficult. "Not every strategy has to have a name, Uncle." _Now hurry up and win so I can get on with my life._

"Hmmm." Iroh flipped a tile back and forth across the knuckles of his right hand. "I'm afraid you have left me in a rather difficult position."

 _I left myself wide open!_ Zuko wanted to shout. _There are three ways you could beat me right now, just_ _ **pick**_ _one!_

"I see you haven't finished your tea yet, Prince Zuko." At a leisurely pace, Iroh took a sip of his own tea and rubbed at his ample stomach. "Mmmm. A magnificent blend, I must say."

With a scowl, Zuko took a large swallow from his cup. That was a mistake—the tea was almost scalding, and it went down his throat like a stone. A massive, burning stone. Iroh gave him an odd look as he tried to regain his composure, and a tile clicked against the gameboard.

"I believe it is your move, Prince Zuko."

 _Finally_. Zuko looked down at the board again, and his heart sank. Somehow, in a single turn, Iroh had blocked all three of the clear openings that Zuko had left. Impossibly, it looked like Zuko was _winning_ now.

"What—" he sputtered. "How—" His temper flared, and the candle blazed high enough that the flames licked the steel ceiling.

Iroh frowned up at the blackened mark. "Pai Sho is a game of many strategies, Prince Zuko. It is unwise to reveal ones' reasons in the midst of the game."

 _You're just trying to keep me here all day!_ Zuko let out an irritated huff and sparks flew from his mouth.

Thankfully, Lieutenant Jee chose that moment to approach. "General Iroh, we've received a message from the Haishui Prison rig."

Iroh sipped his tea. "Thank you, Lieutenant." He accepted the scroll and gave Zuko a significant look. "It is your move, Prince Zuko."

"Just read the message, Uncle!"

With a placid smile, Iroh took another sip of tea, then broke the wax seal. He read over the message, and his eyebrows crept upward, then descended sharply.

"What is it?"

Iroh read the message again, and his brows repeated their performance in reverse. "It seems," he said evenly, "that a waterbender has been captured."

Zuko's elbow slipped, jostling the Pai Sho board and knocking his teacup to the floor. "What?" He snatched the scroll from his uncle's hand and read the message himself. He tensed, and his gaze hardened. "Lieutenant, change course. We sail for the rig immediately."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Well, that took longer than I expected. I could make plenty of excuses about why this chapter took _months_ rather than the few weeks I was hoping for, but I won't. I'll just say that I've learned my lesson for the future—no more promising publication dates for chapters unless they're actually ready to go.

That said, Chapter 9 is completely written. I forced myself to finish drafting my entire rewrite of "Imprisoned" (even though I figured out that it'd have to be split in two at a pretty early stage) before digging into revisions, so it's just waiting for me to come through and clean up. Yay! Still not going to promise a timeline for the next update, but I'm keeping my fingers crossed that it will be soon-ish.

Anyway, I would love to hear what you think about this chapter! Reviews are always welcome—long, short, questions, speculation, random yelling—I'll take anything. It gives me a huge motivation boost when I get FFN notifications, so if you're enjoying it at all, I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Thanks for reading,

SooperSara


	9. Water: The Haishui Prison Rig: Part 2

**Water**

 **The Haishui Prison Rig: Part 2**

The prison tunic they gave her was an awful scratchy brown thing, more sack than clothing. Katara wrinkled her nose as she pulled it over her head. At least they let her wear her own clothes underneath it. She was almost convinced that the tunic would give her some sort of disease if it came in contact with her skin for too long. This was a Fire Nation prison, after all. She wouldn't put it past them to deliberately infect their prisoners with—something. It was too bad Sokka wasn't here. He would have a better idea of what sorts of dastardly plans the Fire Nation had for them. He usually did.

The guards hustled her and the other prisoners into a row. A few old men, two women who appeared to be sisters, Haru, and Katara. She shifted her weight and fidgeted. She and Haru were by far the youngest of the prisoners, but Haru at least had the benefit of height to help him blend in. Katara, meanwhile, stood nearly a head shorter than the rest of them. Perfect. The last thing she needed was to attract attention in a Fire Nation prison, and her age and her size were already working against her.

A droopy-mustached firebender surveyed the line, frowning at each of them in turn. "Welcome to the Haishui Prison Rig," Droopy-Mustache said. "My name is Warden Hitoshi, but you may all refer to me as sir or Warden. This prison is my domain, and I expect your behavior to reflect it."

There was more to the warden's speech, but Katara stopped listening. It was all very pompous and predictable. The history of the prison rig, its infallible containment of the earthbending menace, all the nonsensical lies that she'd always assumed the Fire Nation told themselves. The warden paced up and down the row as he spoke, occasionally pausing to twirl the ends of his mustache. While his back was turned, Katara rolled her eyes, and Haru nudged her in warning, wide-eyed.

The warden clasped his hands behind his back and turned again. His gaze landed lazily on Katara. "My, my. The Earth King must be desperate indeed if he can do no better than to send children into battle. Victory cannot elude us long."

Katara bristled. "No one sent me anywhere!" The prisoners all turned her way, aghast. "The men and women of the Earth Kingdom are strong and brave. They can fight for themselves, they don't need to send their children."

"Is that so?" The warden loomed uncomfortably close and sneered. "Then what is a little earthbending imp like yourself doing here?"

She stared straight back into his orangish eyes. "I'm not an earthbender." It wasn't a lie, strictly speaking. She'd mimicked a few of Haru's forms, but no rocks had responded to her movements. She really wasn't an earthbender. Not yet, anyway.

"What?" Turning stiffly, the warden pointed accusingly at two of the guards—Half-Bald and Crooked-Nose, as Katara called them. "Are you imbeciles not aware that there are prisons on the mainland specifically equipped for nonbenders? Accommodations at Haishui are not to be wasted on such—"

"We are aware, sir." Half-Bald seemed to realize his mistake in interrupting the warden too late, and he reddened a fraction. "In this case, sir, a nonbending prison wasn't—appropriate."

Crooked-Nose stepped forward as well. "The girl is a waterbender, sir."

"Why was I not informed of this?" It was almost comical how the tips of his mustache quivered as he whipped around from the guards to Katara and back again.

Crooked-Nose hesitated. "Sir—You were. The captain received word of her capture yesterday and immediately sent instructions to prepare to her arrival." He paused. "Were preparations made, sir?"

"How was I meant to make preparations when I was not told to prepare?"

The guards exchanged a look, and after a short silence, Half-Bald spoke. "We have already begun searching for a more suitable prison for the waterbender, sir. Until the arrangements are final, are there any measures you would like us to take?"

Narrowing his eyes, the warden turned back toward Katara. "Shackle her. Do not allow the girl to access her bending."

* * *

They were less than a day's journey from the prison rig now, and Zuko was growing continually more restless. Even training with Uncle—after a _second_ endless Pai Sho game—did nothing to clear his mind. So now, though he had a tenuous grasp of a new firebending form, and the ship was making excellent time, he found himself pacing back and forth across the deck, pointedly ignoring the stares from his crew. Usually, they had the grace to look away in embarrassment when Zuko caught them staring, but today he didn't bother trying to catch them at it. The Avatar was more important. Her and the airbender.

"Something seems to be troubling you, Prince Zuko."

He glared at Iroh but didn't stop his pacing.

A bowl of noodles in one hand, Iroh continued watching mildly. "I am afraid you may wear a permanent groove into the deck." He paused to slurp up a mouthful of noodles. "I understand your desire to remain occupied, but—"

Zuko spun around. "You don't understand anything, Uncle!" He advanced until he stood over the old general, practically spitting with rage. "You're a stupid, lazy old man, and you haven't done anything _useful_ in the past three years."

There was grumbling from some of the crew, and Zuko shot an icy glare their way. Only Lieutenant Jee met his gaze, staring back with steely disapproval.

"Don't you all have something better to do?" Zuko bellowed.

After a moment of muttering, a few of the men wandered away from the group, but Jee remained in place, still staring, arms crossed.

Zuko's jaw clenched. "Where is your post, Lieutenant?"

"Anywhere I like, _your highness._ " Jee's upper lip curled into a sneer. "I'm off duty."

Before Zuko could think of a response—an assignment for Jee, something like scrubbing the crew's washrooms by hand—Iroh spoke again.

"An owl fox may be wise and wily, but he cannot catch his prey without leaving the treetops."

Zuko blinked as Iroh turned his attention back to his bowl. "What are you talking about, Uncle?"

"I may be a wise old man, but I cannot read minds, Prince Zuko. If you want help with whatever is troubling you, you must first explain the trouble."

With a prolonged sigh, Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine." There would be far too many proverbs and Pai Sho references, but there was at least a chance that Uncle would bury a kernel or two of useful advice under the mounds of inevitable nonsense. From the corner of his eye, he saw Jee angling nearer, and Zuko scowled. "In private," he added, shouldering past the lieutenant as he stalked off toward his own cabin.

"Now," Uncle said once he had closed the door after them. "What is bothering you, Nephew?"

"The Avatar." Zuko took to pacing again and wished that he'd thought of a way to get rid of Lieutenant Jee rather than retreating to his cabin. The space between the door and his bed wasn't large enough to pace without making himself dizzy.

"Ah. And what is the trouble with the Avatar?"

"Zhao knows that the waterbender's been arrested, doesn't he?"

Iroh rubbed his chin. "I imagine he does. I have no military connections that Zhao cannot also boast."

With a groan of frustration, Zuko rubbed his eyes. "Just my luck. He knows we found the airbender at the South Pole, so he'll know that the girl has something to do with the Avatar."

"Possible," Iroh conceded. "Commander Zhao may have his suspicions."

"So what am I supposed to do?" Zuko threw up his hands, still pacing. "If Zhao gets there before I do—" His stomach lurched at the thought. Zhao knew exactly how important the Avatar was, what it would mean if anyone other than Zuko delivered the Avatar back to the Fire Nation.

"Commander Zhao does not have the same freedom that you enjoy, Prince Zuko." Careful not to spill his noodles, Iroh settled down at the table. "Even if he wishes to pursue the girl, there is little chance that he could reach the rig before you."

His footsteps echoed hollowly—two steps toward the bed, turn, two steps toward the door, turn. "And what do I do then? How am I going to convince them to hand over the Avatar?"

"Keeping the girl's identity a secret would be a wise first step."

Zuko stopped and stared. The old man took the opportunity to shove in another mouthful. "How completely stupid do you think I am, Uncle?"

Iroh chewed thoughtfully before responding. "I do not think that you are stupid, Nephew. You are impulsive, but I believe that with proper planning, you may be successful."

"Ughhhh!" Pressing the heels of his hands to the sides of his head, Zuko let his voice rise. " _That's the problem!_ I don't have a plan! I've been trying to come up with _something_ since yesterday, and I'm no closer than when I started. All I know is that I _need_ them to hand over the girl."

"And the airbender? You still wish to capture them both?"

He began pacing again. "I don't have a choice."

Iroh shook his head, looking a little sad. "My dear nephew, if you would only take the time to look at the world more closely, you would discover that there is always a choice."

Zuko glowered. There was still steam rising from Iroh's bowl. Typical. He wouldn't teach Zuko anything more challenging than breathing exercises without days of coercion, but of course Iroh would firebend his own food. "If you're just going to speak in riddles, go eat someplace else. I need a plan, not proverbs."

With a long sigh, Iroh placed his bowl down and folded his hands over his stomach. "Very well, Prince Zuko. Tell me what you have considered so far."

* * *

Sokka was always complaining about her penchant for seeing the bright side of everything. Katara could never see the problem with it. Optimism made for a much more pleasant life than Sokka's constant gloom-and-doom, expect-the-worst attitude.

But really, considering the fact that she was stuck in a Fire Nation prison, things were going well. Her hands were shackled, which was annoying, but at least they were in front of her. At least she could eat a bowl of the strange, grayish soup that the guards were passing out without help. And she hadn't been separated from Haru, which was quite a feat in such a huge crowd of prisoners. The yard—or the steel platform that the guards insisted on _calling_ a yard—was large, but that didn't keep it from being cramped and chaotic. But Haru held onto her hand, and it felt nice. Really nice. She knew he was just making sure they wouldn't be separated, but this was still the first time she'd held a boy's hand. Or at least a boy who wasn't Sokka. Or Aang. Maybe it was silly, but her heart still fluttered at the warmth and pressure of his hand.

Better yet, they found Haru's father. Tyro was white-haired and kind, and though he seemed a little wary when he saw Katara's shackles, he welcomed her right along with his son. She hadn't exactly expected to find allies here, but now that she had, she couldn't help but feel a little smug. Being captured by the Fire Nation was certainly not ideal, but it wasn't as bad as she had anticipated. Escape was never going to be difficult. After all, she was a waterbender in the middle of the ocean, and Aang had a flying bison. Having allies inside the prison could only make things easier.

Tyro cast a suspicious glance at her chains for what had to be the eighth time in as many minutes. "If you don't mind my asking," Tyro said, pulling his gaze away from the shackles. "I am rather curious what brought a waterbender so far south."

Katara raised an eyebrow. "I'm from the South Pole. I've never been this far north in my life."

Tyro looked surprised, but only for a moment. "I apologize, my dear. There hasn't been much news from the South Pole in a very long time."

"Not much has happened at the South Pole in a long time." Zuko had been the first outsider to set foot in their village since the raid six years ago. Aang didn't really count—he had, after all, been frozen in their ice fields for a century. "My brother and our friend and I were on our way to the North Pole before Haru and I got caught."

Tyro gave a grave nod. "I'm sorry your travels came to such an unpleasant end. I can't promise that your time here will be good, but you will not have to be alone. Haru and I will look after you."

Katara felt herself smile. It was a nice offer, and the warmth in Haru's eyes when he nodded his assent set her stomach fluttering. She could look after herself just fine, but it was still a _really_ nice offer. "Thank you," she said. "But you really don't have to do that. I won't be here very long anyway."

Haru's face fell and he picked at the hem of his prison tunic. "That's right. I keep forgetting that they're sending you away."

Katara straightened her spine. "That's not what I mean. Sokka and Aang are on their way here right now, and they're going to get me out of here." When both pairs of green eyes turned her direction, she smiled. "You can come too. Both of you. I'm sure Appa can carry two extra people." Probably more than that, if she was honest. Exactly how many people could a sky bison carry? She'd have to remember to ask Aang once he got here.

Tyro looked at her as though she had sprouted a second head or a third eye. "No."

She returned the confused look. "You can't possibly be telling me that you're just going to stay here. You have to have _some_ plan to get out."

Tyro shook his head. "The _plan_ is to survive. We'll go home if we can outlast the war."

"That's too many 'ifs' for me," Katara said, momentarily forgetting her shackles as she attempted to cross her arms. "I'm not staying here, and I'm not being transferred to another prison."

"Young lady." The old man's eyes were as stern as his voice. "There is no alternative."

She gave up on crossing her arms and glared. "There's _always_ another way. I'm not giving up."

A moment of silence passed as Tyro studied her. "In that case, I think there's someone you ought to meet."

* * *

Tyro wouldn't say who he wanted Katara to meet, and after a while, she stopped asking. Apparently, it was "too risky" to speak above a whisper about anything more substantial than the weather, and after a few rounds of _"Who on earth do you think is going to change my mind?"_ followed by, _"Shhh! The temperature is lovely for this time of year,"_ Katara had no choice but to give up and wait. Even if she wanted to, she didn't know enough about the weather this far north to contribute to the conversation. Unseasonably cool or not, it was still warmer than she was used to, and her fourteen years of experience with blizzards hadn't equipped her to discuss thunderstorms.

So she sat in relative silence, fidgeting with the heavy chains dangling from her wrists, and tried to pretend that she wasn't simultaneously bored out of her mind and seconds away from jumping out of her own skin. They had to keep their voices down, they couldn't move around too much, they _certainly_ couldn't stand up to stretch their legs, not with the guards watching. Katara was almost tempted to ask what they _could_ do, but she restrained herself. The longer she waited, without her brother and without Aang, with Tyro constantly looking over his shoulder, and Haru mirroring his father more closely by the minute, the more she felt the paranoia creeping into her veins.

But when the guards finally wheeled a vat out through the steel doors and motioned the prisoners forward for their evening meal, Tyro wasted no time in steering them both to the opposite end of the yard. Katara shared a confused look with Haru, but before either of them had a chance to speak, they came to a stop behind a tall, black-haired woman.

"We've had some new arrivals, Tae Yun," Tyro said.

"There are always new arrivals, Tyro." The woman glanced back over her shoulder as if to dismiss the statement, but she saw the two smaller figures at Tyro's side and did a double-take. She turned around and fixed a stony look on Haru, then Katara.

"More children?" Tae Yun's hard, square face turned Tyro's direction again.

"My son, Haru," Tyro replied, resting a hand on Haru's shoulder. "And his friend, Katara." Voice dropping to an even rumble, he added, "Tae Yun was our commander before the village was taken."

A commander. The woman certainly had the bearing of a soldier and the attitude to match. And her gaze was uncomfortably intense. Katara wondered if there was a special greeting for Earth Kingdom commanders, something like the silly, pretentious bow the firebenders gave one another. Water Tribe warriors always clasped one another's forearms, but she wasn't certain that would work with her hands shackled. Instead, she smiled and gave a little wave. Her chains clinked against one another and Tae Yun offered her a skeptical look.

"Making trouble already, I see." Tae Yun pressed her lips into a narrow, judgmental line.

"I didn't cause any trouble!" She felt Haru's eyes land on her and Katara's face heated. "Okay, so it was kind of my fault that we got arrested. And I sort of fought the soldiers when they showed up, but after I kicked that one guy in the shin, I stopped."

"I fought back too," Haru said sheepishly.

Katara gave him a grateful smile, but Tae Yun still looked unimpressed.

"And yet only one of you earned a set of chains for your troubles." Folding her arms, Tae Yun narrowed her eyes at Katara. "How did that happen, hmmm? Earthbending is impossible out here. The guards don't bother with chains unless there's reason."

"Like the fact that I'm a waterbender?" Katara asked, deadpan. If not for the chains, she would have planted her hands on her hips—she could manage a pretty intimidating look when she felt like it. Well, it intimidated Sokka anyway.

The older woman did look a little surprised at that, but her stony demeanor settled back into place just as quickly. "A waterbender on the Haishui Rig?" She rolled her eyes up to the sky and muttered, "They catch us, but they can't think far enough ahead to realize that the middle of the ocean isn't the best place to keep a waterbender."

Katara shrugged. "Apparently they're only planning to keep me here until they can find a better prison for me." She jutted her chin out determinedly and her gaze hardened. "Not that it matters. I'll be out of here _way_ before they can figure out where to send me."

"This is why I wanted to introduce the two of you," Tyro interrupted. He gave Katara a stern look. "Tae Yun, it seems that our young friend here is planning her escape."

"Is that so?"

Katara nodded. "My brother and my friend are on their way. They'll help us escape."

"Who is _us?_ Keeping a frog in your pocket, young lady?"

"No!" Katara replied, indignant. "I mean everybody. The Fire Nation was wrong to imprison you all here, and there has to be a way to get everyone out together." Eyes from all around turned her direction, and the low rumble of other voices dropped away, leaving her last few words to ring out over silence.

Tae Yun gave a subtle signal with her right hand and the murmurs began again, though quieter than before. The guards were shifting, scowling in her direction, and Tae Yun's hand came to rest on Katara's shoulder.

"Sit down," Tae Yun ordered quietly. "Too many eyes looking this way."

Katara obeyed—she wasn't happy about it, but she could feel the eyes pointed in her direction, and the hateful look in the guards' eyes _was_ a little uncomfortable.

"Now tell me. What on earth possessed you to think escape was an option?"

Affronted, Katara tried to fold her arms only for the chains to pull her up short. "Well, what possessed _you_ to think that staying in prison was an option?"

Tae Yun leaned forward, narrowing her eyes, and let her voice drop. "Understand this, young lady. Every earthbender on this blasted rig wants to get back home. I have been here for five years, and every day I wish we could be free."

"So do it," Katara pressed in a whisper. "Break out." She turned to Haru for support, and he nodded.

"Out of the question. I have worked too long and hard to keep the peace with these animals." Her green eyes flicked up toward the guards. "You are not the first to dream of escape, young lady. Others have tried." Tae Yun's expression remained stony as ever. "No one ever tried a second time. The consequences were worse than you can possibly imagine. And that was just the ones who were caught." She thumped the ground with a fingertip to punctuate her words. "The Fire Nation makes no distinction between the innocent and the guilty. If we put one foot out of line—if _one_ person escapes, anyone left here would face the punishment in their place. Staying here, staying together, staying _alive_ is the only choice we have."

Katara stared back. She didn't have to think hard to imagine the sorts of punishments the Fire Nation might dream up for any prisoners who got left behind. What they'd done to her own mother was proof enough. But that didn't change anything. She couldn't stay here.

The solution was simple, then. She just needed to find a way to get them all out at the same time.

* * *

It took all Sokka's restraint to keep from landing Appa in the middle of the yard and collecting his sister in broad daylight. They had to wait until sunset. He knew that. Only a few extra hours of circling and floating on the surface when Appa got tired.

A few hours too many. By the time the sky darkened, and the prison quieted enough to risk entering, Sokka had run through everything that could possibly have happened to Katara in the time they'd been separated. He was itching to move, to fight if necessary. It didn't even look like it would be _hard_ —the Fire Nation was clearly counting on the ocean to do most of its work for them. All Sokka and Aang needed to do was sneak in, find Katara, and sneak back out. They could handle that.

That didn't make Sokka feel any better. Aang kept trying to reassure him— _Katara's going to be okay. She's with Haru, they'll take care of each other. The Fire Nation isn't all bad. You know, a hundred years ago_ —Sokka stopped listening at that point. Aang's blind optimism was bad enough when Katara was there to play along. When Aang started spouting all the good things he'd ever heard about firebenders while Sokka's baby sister was in the Fire Nation's slimy clutches, it was unbearable.

But finally, _finally_ , night fell, and the boys snuck in. They probably weren't as sneaky as they could have been. Sokka's blue tunic and Aang's vivid yellow weren't ideal camouflage, but between Sokka's stealthy hunting skills and Aang's uncanny ability to walk without making a sound—even if he couldn't stop talking—they made it to the barracks without being sighted.

"You start looking over there," Sokka hissed, pointing his boomerang toward the southernmost cluster of barracks. "I'll start here. We meet in the middle as soon as one of us finds Katara, then we go out the way we came in."

"What about Haru?" Aang whispered.

Sokka swore under his breath. Naturally. Of course Aang would share Katara's bleeding-heart tendencies. "If they're smart, they stuck together. We find Katara, we find Haru. We find Haru, we find Katara. Go."

Aang opened his mouth as if to reply, then gave his staff a twirl and trotted off. Sokka watched just long enough to see the flash of yellow vanish around a corner before ducking into the first open-ended building.

Sokka crept down the row of bunks, peering at every face, grateful that the snoring covered the sound of his footsteps. No Katara. _Be patient. She's here somewhere._ Keeping low to the ground, he darted to the next building and continued his search.

It wasn't until he was partway through his fifth barracks that Sokka saw a familiar face. Haru. And no Katara. Damn it, they were stupider than he thought.

Sokka pulled Haru into a headlock and jammed a hand over his mouth, dragging the earthbender off his bunk and onto the floor. The idiot had to answer for leaving Katara alone in a _Fire Nation prison_.

Haru jerked and struggled, making entirely too much noise.

Sokka tightened his grip. Damn it, throwing rocks around really made people strong. "Stop fighting, you moron. Where is Katara?"

Haru let out a surprised grunt and peered up at Sokka out of the corner of his eye. With a strange expression, Haru shook him off.

"Sokka?" Haru whispered. "What are you doing here?"

With a tremendous eye roll, Sokka grabbed him by the arm and hauled Haru outside. "Katara? Remember her? My little sister? Your dumb idea to practice bending illegally got her arrested? Where is she?"

Thankfully, Haru had the sense to duck back against the wall and keep his voice down. "Not with me."

"You _split up?_ What kind of idiot are you?" Sokka shoved Haru's shoulder.

"I didn't have a choice."

" _What?_ " Sokka's voice slid an octave too high.

Rather than arguing, Haru pointed up to a sign over the open barracks doorway.

 _MEN._

Peering back over his shoulder, Sokka discovered that the same sign hung over each of the doors of the barracks he'd searched. Ah. So that would explain why he hadn't found Katara yet. Why hadn't Sokka realized that he had only seen men?

"Where did they put her?"

Haru shrugged and motioned toward the south. "Women's barracks are that way. I'm not sure which one she's in, but she's not alone." Before Sokka had a chance to berate him again, Haru nudged his arm.

Two figures came hurtling down the aisle, one in yellow, the other in brown.

"Sokka!" Katara threw her arms around him with an odd jangling noise. "I _knew_ you were coming. I was going to wait out here for you, but Tae Yun wouldn't let me out of her sight."

Sokka hugged her briefly. Finding out who this Tae Yun person was would have to wait. "Yeah, of course." He tried to dislodge himself, but he was stuck in a ring of skinny girl-arms and chain. _Great_. He'd have to figure out how to break shackles too. Stifling a groan, he hoisted Katara's arm over his head and tugged her toward the edge of the platform. "Come on. Appa's waiting for us."

"No." She yanked herself free and backed up to stand next to Haru. "We can't leave yet."

 _What?_ This just kept getting worse. Sokka threw his hands up. "What's the problem? We found you, we found your boyfriend—" Katara and Haru shared a glance, and Aang looked confused "—that's _all_ we're here for. It's time to go."

Katara furrowed her brows into _that face_. The one she always made when she was in the mood for a fight. "I said no. We can't just leave."

Sokka's jaw dropped.

"My dad's here," Haru added in an undertone.

"So go get him," Sokka said in exasperation. Five people. That was fine. He was sure Appa could carry that many. "We'll get your dad out too."

"That's not the point!" Katara put her hands on her hips. Well, she put _one_ hand on _one_ hip. The other kind of just—got dragged along. Uh oh. Hands on hips usually led to yelling and even more stubbornness. "We can't leave anyone behind. The Fire Nation has been horrible to these people, and if we escape, it's just going to get worse."

"That's not our problem, Katara. We need to get out of here and get you and Aang to the North Pole as soon as possible."

She shook her head firmly. "No, Sokka. We are not leaving here unless _all_ the prisoners come with us."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Once again, the words have gotten away from me and made this story longer than I planned. But hey! For once, I _can_ actually promise the date for my next update—you can expect to see Chapter 10 a week from today (on July 7)! I make no promises after that, since I'm in the process of shopping for my first house, but I'm working on this thing as much as I possibly can.

Thank you SO, SO much to anyone who's left a review. I love hearing people's thoughts (even if it's just a word or two), so **please** feel free to comment, ask me questions, yell, whatever you feel like. (I do try to respond to comments, but if you're not logged in, that doesn't really work, so I guess if you're a guest and you have a question, ask away, and I'll try to remember to answer you in future author's notes!)

On that note, I've noticed two common (-ish) questions, so here's my answer:

 _How are there two Avatars when there's only one_ _Raava?_  
To be honest, I had no clue who Raava was when I first started on this fic (I watched LOK _very_ late), and once I did, I was too attached to this story idea to give it up. So Raava isn't a thing in this world. Actually, most of the lore introduced in LOK isn't a thing in this world. I just like having more room for interpretation, so I'm sticking with what was given to us in the original series. The two-Avatar issue is still messy and complicated, and I'll be dealing with that more in upcoming chapters (I'd say _which_ chapter, but "Imprisoned" was supposed to be a single, short chapter, and instead it turned into three not-exactly-short chapters. So I'll just say that it's coming sometime in Book 1).

 _Why is this labelled as a Zutara story if Zuko and Katara barely interact?  
_ Okay, so this was probably more an issue on AO3 (because tags), and I did add a smidge of extra explanation both here and there, so maybe I'm just rambling for no reason. But yes, this is a Zutara fic, and you're right, Zuko and Katara haven't interacted much yet. But this is a slowburn (possibly the _slowest_ burn), and honestly? This is going to be a 4-book series, and the slowburn description applies to all four books. Zuko and Katara will be getting a lot more one-on-one interaction soon, but this is going to be a _**LONG**_ fic and a _**MASSIVE**_ slowburn.

I hope you all have an amazing week! I'll be back next Sunday with Chapter 10!

Thanks for reading,

SooperSara

PS: I upped the rating on this from K+ to T, because I remembered that I let Sokka swear in the previous chapter. Whoops. Changing the rating probably wasn't necessary, but I just wanted to give a heads-up on why I made the change (I might venture into some slightly darker material later too, but really, it's because my boys want to cuss).


	10. Water: The Haishui Prison Rig: Part 3

**Water**

 **The Haishui Prison Rig: Part 3**

There was a great deal of swearing from Sokka, which would have been much more impressive if he hadn't learned all his swears from Gran-Gran and her friends. Even if Katara were in the mood to have her mind changed by one of Sokka's tirades, the old lady swears spoiled the effect completely. So she watched, unimpressed, until her brother finally ran out of ways to call her crazy. He would see sense eventually.

And eventually he did. Or he just realized that Katara had no intention of backing down—either way, Sokka dragged a hand down his face with a prolonged groan and asked if there was any possible way to change her mind. And when Katara shook her head one last time, he finally gave in and started planning.

It took a few truly absurd ideas before they settled on a plan that sounded feasible. Katara and Haru would rally the prisoners, Aang would undertake a solo mission that Sokka called Operation Coal-Hole while Sokka led Operation Shippy-Stealy, and the prisoners would be in charge of Operation Smash-Firebenders-With-Rocks-(and-coal-is-a-rock-guys-how-do-you-not-know-that). Despite the mission names that Sokka insisted they all learn, it was a good plan. That didn't keep Katara from noticing that Operation Smash-Firebenders-With-Rocks-(no-Sokka-I'm-not-going-to-say-the-other-part) didn't leave her with much to do. It didn't seem fair. She had to convince everyone to play their parts and then stand aside while _they_ all got to fight and be sneaky.

"So what am I supposed to do while everyone's fighting?" she asked in a whisper. Maybe there was something important for her to do. Maybe Sokka was just taking his time before explaining it.

Sokka grimaced and scratched behind his ear. "You can—y'know. Keep morale up. Make sure nobody gets hurt too bad."

She let out a huff. "Sokka—"

"We're too far up for you to reach the water," Sokka interrupted quietly, ticking points off on his fingers. "There isn't enough water up here for you to put out a candle, much less fight a firebender. You're all chained up, and—" he paused to give her a significant look. "Throwing rocks isn't exactly your specialty."

Katara could read a whole lecture between his tone and his expression, one that said, _Don't even think about it. This is the_ _ **worst possible**_ _time for you to try earthbending. Aang's already as subtle as a stink bomb in a perfume shop—don't you_ _ **dare**_ _blow your cover too._

She bit back her protests. Sokka was right. The Avatar State was too obvious, even if she could control it, and the guards were all aware that she was a waterbender. As tempting as it might be, she couldn't be seen bending a second element. Not yet, at least.

So they went ahead with the plan, and Katara tried not to complain too much. Haru let Sokka borrow his prison tunic as a disguise while Katara lent hers to Aang. She and Haru would stand out, but at least they were meant to be here. The disguises would buy the boys enough time to set their respective missions in motion without being caught.

It all went according to plan. Katara persuaded the other prisoners to revolt, Aang flew off to blow the coal from the engine rooms into the yard, and Sokka gathered a small team of prisoners and set off with Appa to hijack the transport vessels. Haru fought alongside his father, a far more effective battle partner for Tyro than he had been for Katara. And for all her initial objections to the escape attempt, Tae Yun threw herself into the battle with a remarkable amount of gusto. She was holding off two guards singlehandedly, erring more on the side of precision than of brute force. There wasn't enough coal to allow many large attacks, but that seemed to suit Tae Yun just fine. A well-aimed lump of coal no larger than a fist caught one of the guards behind the ear and dropped him like a stone. The other guard was distracted for an instant—just enough time for Tae Yun to throw a larger piece of earth at his chest, sending him sailing back into the wall, where he landed with an audible crunch and lay motionless.

Katara was happy that everything was going so well, she really was. The prisoners had the guards outnumbered, and since the firebenders were occupied with the riot, the hijacking team should have no trouble capturing the transport ships. They just had to barricade themselves in the yard, defeat all the remaining guards, then they would be able to board the ships and escape with no fuss.

Her shackles chafed, and Katara frowned down at them. She should be out there too, fighting for her freedom along with everyone else. Despite what Sokka probably thought, she hadn't actually _agreed_ to stay out of the fighting. She'd only agreed that revealing herself as the Avatar was a bad idea. She could still waterbend.

The shackles would have to go, that was the first step. Katara scanned the guards, hoping that one of the men entrusted with the keys would be unconscious already. No such luck. The only guard she recognized was bearing down on a pair of earthbending women—possibly the sisters who'd been transported here with her and Haru. The keys dangled from his belt—she wouldn't be able to just sneak up and grab them.

Keeping low, she crept over to the wall, careful to remain as out-of-sight as possible. They had begun the revolt after the changing of the guard, immediately before their midday meal was served. The vat of porridge that was meant to be their lunch was waiting at the end of the yard. A smile crept across her face. Porridge was made with water.

* * *

Uncle did most of the talking. It wasn't so much that Warden Hitoshi or Captain Genkei didn't trust Zuko, Iroh told him, it was more a matter of connections. Zuko was still too young for the military, and these men were more likely to agree with someone who had been a general than with a young prince.

Zuko heard the implications that Iroh was kind enough to leave unspoken—Zuko had been banished, while Iroh was merely retired. Zuko wasn't just young, he was hotheaded and prone to shouting when things didn't go his way. More importantly, Zuko was dishonored. It didn't matter that most of the world didn't know the particulars of his scarring and banishment—they would have heard rumors of his disrespect, and they wouldn't be inclined to listen to _anything_ he had to say anymore.

"But what of the— _conditions_ Prince Zuko has to abide by?" the captain asked delicately. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "It was my understanding that—"

"We were led to believe that Prince Zuko was barred from entering any Fire Nation territories until his banishment is lifted." Warden Hitoshi didn't bother averting his gaze. He stared openly at Zuko's scar. "What use will he be in transporting the waterbending filth?"

Zuko tensed in his chair, an angry retort on his lips, but Iroh stilled him with a glance.

"Prince Zuko's river cruiser is equipped to carry such a prisoner," the general replied smoothly. "It is true that Prince Zuko may not set foot on Fire Nation soil, but his crew is not bound by any such conditions. I will lead an expedition to transport the waterbender while Prince Zuko remains with his main vessel."

The warden narrowed his eyes. "Why would His Highness agree to such a menial task?"

Doing his best to keep his scowl from deepening, Zuko answered, "I haven't had many opportunities to serve the Fire Nation in the past few years. Transporting a prisoner won't interfere with my mission and it will spare my father's other men for—" he hesitated, and his voice dropped to a growl. "—more _important_ missions." Uncle had been very particular about the way Zuko explained himself. So particular, in fact, that he made Zuko rehearse those precise words for more than an hour until he could say it without rolling his eyes or letting sarcasm seep into his voice. Zuko only agreed to it because he knew that Uncle understood these men. He didn't mean a word of it, though. His mission _mattered_. And although he'd been unsuccessful for nearly three years, he was finally making progress. Nothing could be more important than that.

Before the warden could speak again, alarm bells reached them from somewhere outside the office, and a harassed-looking private burst through the door, breathing hard.

"What is the meaning of this intrusion, Private?" the warden demanded, rising from behind his desk. "Did I not make it clear that I had important visitors and we were not to be interrupted?"

The private blushed scarlet and bowed. "Apologies, sir."

"I have said many times that I am not to be disturbed while we have guests," the warden blustered on.

Based on the look on Captain Genkei's face, the warden _hadn't_ made any such remark in the past, but the captain didn't try to correct him. "What seems to be the trouble, Private?"

Still red-faced, the private bowed again. "I'm sorry sirs, it's—it's the prisoners. They're rioting. It seems they've been planning a prison break."

Zuko leapt to his feet in tandem with the captain and the warden. Iroh's advice— _remain calm, Nephew. Any sign of agitation will put the girl's true identity at risk—_ was immediately forgotten. Zuko grabbed the private by the collar.

"Where?" he demanded, shaking the man a little. It didn't work as well as he hoped—the private was older and far heavier-built than the Prince himself. "Where is the riot?"

"In the yard." The private stared at Zuko and a wave of recognition washed over his face. "Prince Z—"

Zuko was halfway out the door already. "Show me the yard," he barked.

* * *

Katara ducked and dodged to stay hidden and eventually found herself crouching behind the vat, unnoticed, or at least ignored by the firebenders. Leaning back, she blinked up at the sky and took a slow breath. A tiny hand patted her knee, and she looked down to see Momo's bulbous green eyes staring up at her.

"Hey, Momo. Do you think you could see if there's a lid on this thing?" she whispered.

The lemur blinked and let out a chirp.

Katara rolled her eyes. "Right. You only understand Aang." She could feel the water in the vat—it was sludgy, but she could bend it. If there was a lid on the vat, though, she'd have to stand up and make herself visible before she could strike. It was safer to avoid that, if possible.

"Food, Momo?" At that, the lemur cocked his head to the side. "Want some food? It's in here." Katara rapped her knuckles against the side of the great pot. "Go get the food, Momo."

With a screech, Momo clambered up her arm, tugged at her braid, and leapt from the top of her head into the vat of porridge with a slurping sound. A few grayish drops splashed out onto her skirt. Well, that answered that question. No lid to worry about.

Katara drew a lumpy mass of porridge out of the vat and froze it experimentally. Not bad. Pure water was more responsive, but she could work with this.

Rising to her knees, she peeked out from her hiding place. The guard she needed to disable was only a few strides away. Katara took a deep breath and stood, then pulled the entire contents of the vat out and with a broad sweep of her arms, doused the man and froze him in place.

The two earthbenders who had been fighting the guard had only an instant to look surprised before another firebender stepped in to fill the void. Katara scrambled forward. If she had learned anything from her fight on Kyoshi Island, it was that ice couldn't slow down a firebender for long. She had to move quickly before the man thawed her gloopy ice and resumed his assault. Carefully, she thawed a patch of porridge near his waist and snatched the ring of keys from his belt.

"Thanks!" she said cheerfully before retreating behind the vat to shake the goop off of the keys and unlock the shackles. With a sigh of relief, she rubbed at her wrists. Standing, she surveyed the fight again. The guard she'd frozen was still immobile, but despite the number of unmoving firebenders scattered around the yard, the prisoners were still fighting furiously. Her heart sank. The entrance to the yard wasn't barred off as they'd planned, and more guards were flowing through the doors, replacing the fallen almost as quickly as they dropped. There wasn't enough coal to overpower every firebender on the rig, and the supply kept shrinking as it caught fire.

Without stopping to consider further, Katara ran forward again, taking a hovering ball of porridge with her to block the firebenders' attacks on her way to the door. She sprinted between the fighting pairs of guards and prisoners, shackles and keys dangling from one hand while she controlled her ball of floating liquid with the other to keep the flames at bay. She reached the doors in seconds and, not bothering to look back, slammed them shut. Holding tight onto the handles, she looked around for something to barricade the door. The only thing large enough to hold it shut for any length of time was the now-empty vat. Even if it were heavy enough to keep the firebenders from sending in more reinforcements, it was too far away for her to reach now. With a frown, she jammed her hip against the door and fumbled with the keys. One of them had to work.

Before she had a chance to try, she heard footsteps thundering down the corridor in her direction. She let out a squeak of surprise and the keys flew out of her hand. In a moment of panic, she whipped the shackles around the door handles and locked them.

The footsteps reached the end of the corridor, and someone slammed into the doors. Katara yelped, leaping back. Thankfully the shackles held, and the person on the other side of the doors grunted when the chain pulled taut.

"Time to load the boats!" one of the earthbenders shouted.

Katara cast a glance back at the door. Even over the sounds of the continuing fight, she could still hear the murmuring from the corridor, and the sound of one of the voices made her blood run cold. Heart pounding, she backed a few steps away from the door before breaking into a run.

* * *

He sprinted down the corridor, down one flight of steps, then another and another, barely two steps ahead of the private, who shouted directions after him all the way. The captain and the warden followed a bit farther behind. Zuko didn't look back, but the warden's deep voice boomed after them, droning on about broken spirits and the idiocy of earthbenders. Either he was following, or his voice had an unnatural ability to separate from his body.

At last they reached the doors, and Zuko flung them open. Or he tried to. The doors swung outward a few inches, then slammed shut again. Zuko swore aloud and tried again.

It was exactly the same the second time. Both doors moved, but only enough for him to see a sliver of light from the yard before they jerked to a stop. A metallic rattle caught his attention, and he peered through the crack. Chains. One of those stupid earthbenders had had the foresight to chain the door shut.

Snarling in frustration, he slid the grated window in the upper half of the door open. The prison riot could hardly be called a riot anymore—it was organized, and the earthbenders, though they were cramped together on the far side of the yard as if in retreat, were winning. There was a roar from overhead, and the airbender's fluffy white monstrosity landed in the unoccupied space between the guards and the prisoners. The beast raised its tail and swung it back down, the resulting gust sending all but three of the guards sailing through the air. The airbender and the waterbending girl dashed forward to finish the fight—the girl was wielding some sort of opaque grayish liquid rather than water—while the Water Tribe buffoon herded all the prisoners toward the fence overlooking the sea.

"No," Zuko growled, rattling at the doors again. They were both there. The Avatar and the airbender, the only two obstacles in his path home, and they were just barely out of his reach. Wild-eyed, he turned back to the others.

"Is there another entrance?" he demanded, heart roaring in his ears. He was too close. Failure wasn't an option. Not today.

"I'm afraid not, Your Highness. The crew's quarters would be too difficult to secure if there was more than one entrance."

The warden stepped forward and held out his hand as though it were a grand, magnanimous gesture. "You may use my keys to open the doors, Prince Zuko."

Zuko stared. "They're chained shut." He shoved the door again to demonstrate his point. He thought he remembered Uncle saying something about the warden—a few leaves short of a teapot, or something like that. As stupid as he found the analogy, Zuko couldn't fault it. Talking to the warden was useless.

Captain Genkei, at least, seemed used to the nonsense, and turned to the private. "The hinges should be the weakest point."

Zuko and the private nodded almost in unison and struck a firebending stance. Twin streams of fire struck the hinges, and Zuko's scowl deepened as he channeled more rage and heat into the blast. He could hear the roaring of blood in his ears, and his breathing hastened. He didn't have time for this. The Avatar was probably already escaping.

At last, the metal began to creak and groan. With a yell, Zuko threw the largest fireball he could produce at the center of the doors, and they crumpled out into the yard.

Zuko reeled from the effort and the force of the blast. Just long enough to see the waterbender glance back his way before leaping up into the bison's saddle. "No!" he shouted and bounded over the crumpled remains of the doors and the fallen guards strewn across the yard.

But the bison lifted off, and although he shot a fireball after the retreating Avatar, Zuko was too far away to make any difference. He roared in anger and bent down to grab the nearest guard.

"Do you realize what you've done?" Zuko shouted, shaking the groggy man's shoulders. "You just let the Avatar escape!"

There were mutterings from the few conscious firebenders, but Zuko didn't hear them. Breathing hard, he let the guard drop and straightened, glaring after the bison. He'd failed. Again.

From somewhere behind him, Iroh's voice carried across the platform, but Zuko didn't listen. His heartbeat refused to slow, and he felt almost nauseous. So close. If he had been stronger, faster, more ruthless, he would have had the Avatar this time. He could be on his way home right now if he weren't such a failure.

He pressed the heels of his hands to his forehead and let out another shout of rage. But when he opened his eyes this time, a flash of blue at the edge of the platform caught his attention. Hardly daring to breathe, he turned it over with the toe of his boot. The waterbender's necklace.

* * *

Katara tried not to look back. They were free, sailing off toward the Earth Kingdom with the setting sun at their backs. Not a single prisoner left behind, and the prison crew had no way to follow them.

Still, her mind kept calling up the memory of that familiar, gravelly voice, and the quick glimpse of a scarred face that she'd caught before they flew away. It shouldn't have been possible. Zuko shouldn't have been able to find them so quickly. She'd been at the rig less than a day before he caught up with them. Outrunning the Fire Nation was going to be harder than she thought.

She forced those thoughts from her mind. Right now, what mattered was that they were safe, that hundreds of earthbenders were going home for the first time in years. That families were being reunited after too much time apart.

A lump rose in her throat when Haru hugged his father again. From the corner of her eye, she saw Sokka set his jaw, deliberately turning his head away from the reunion. Katara couldn't deny it. It was hard to watch someone else regain a father when they had gone so long without theirs, but she couldn't bring herself to feel jealous. Haru's family had been divided just as long as hers had. It wasn't Haru's fault that destiny had done him a favor first.

Tyro finally pulled out of the embrace but kept a hand on Haru's shoulder. "I never thought I'd see the day when we were all free again." He smiled warmly at Katara. "Thank you. Your courage was an inspiration to all of us."

Though she tried to hide it, her face split into a smile. "It was the least I could do."

Sokka snorted and jabbed his boomerang at her. "Yeah, because _my_ plan got us out of there. All _you_ did was decide to break out. I had to figure out all the details." He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "I'm always the man with the plan."

"Sure thing, plan guy." Katara narrowed her eyes at him. "That's why I had to save your neck in Omashu."

"You went with _my_ idea!"

"And it was _my_ idea to use the shackles to barricade the door. If I hadn't done that, we'd still be back on the rig."

"I _told_ you that someone would have to block the door!"

"But no one else figured out a way to do it." Katara planted her hands on her hips. It felt good to do that again. "Plan guy, my foot."

Sokka scowled at her. "Porridge bender."

Looking concerned, Aang stepped between them, staff extended as though he expected them to leap at one another at any moment. "Guys, the plan was great. All of it. Everyone did a really great job."

Katara beamed and tilted her chin upward. "Thank you, Aang. It was amazing how you got all the coal into the yard with your airbending." There. Now maybe Sokka would have a better idea of how to show his appreciation.

"What are you going to do now?" Haru asked, looking between the two siblings. "You're welcome to come with us if you want."

Katara considered it for a second. Haru was nice. His family was nice, and it would be nice to stop travelling for a while. They could go back to the Earth Kingdom, maybe even learn earthbending from Tyro or Tae Yun. Waterbending was meant to come first, but the North Pole was still a long way off. It might be nice if they could find a safe place to hide from the Fire Nation, to stay out of Zuko's reach, for at least a little while.

"Hey, Water Tribe!" someone shouted from the stern of the ship. Sokka and Katara both turned toward the voice, but only Sokka's eyes lit up with recognition at the nickname. "I thought your team hijacked _every_ boat from the rig?"

"Uh." Sokka scratched his head sheepishly. "Sort of?" he called back.

"What?" Katara hissed, smacking his arm. "They can follow us if they still have a boat, genius."

"We've got company!" Tae Yun yelled from the top of the command tower.

Katara glared at Sokka.

"It was Zuko's ship," He explained in a whisper. "The whole crew was still on board. We couldn't take them out without alerting the whole rig, so—"

"So now he's after us?" Aang asked, eyes wide. Momo leapt from the saddle onto his head, and Aang had to catch himself with his staff.

Tae Yun pounded down the stairs onto the deck and planted her hands on her hips, staring daggers at Katara. "I thought I told you the only way this escape scheme was getting past me was if _all_ my people made it out safely. Any bright ideas on how to handle this mess, waterbender?"

Katara let out a long breath. Of course. Of course Zuko was on their trail again. She gave Haru an apologetic look. It _would_ have been nice to go with them. If it weren't for the war, for the crazy firebending prince chasing them, she would have told Haru yes.

Setting her jaw, she turned to Tae Yun again. "Yes. We're going to lure him away with Appa. If he sees us leave, he'll follow."

Sokka nodded grimly and rested his hand on Aang's shoulder. "Right. That's Prince Zuko. He's been chasing the three of us since the South Pole."

Katara looked across at him and returned his solemn nod.

"You can't outrun him," Sokka continued. "But that doesn't matter, because he's chasing us, and we can."

The mood of the entire crowd turned subdued in an instant, and Katara climbed into the saddle after her brother, suddenly heavy with exhaustion. She didn't want to leave. All that work to save these people, and she couldn't even stay long enough to watch them return home, to see them take back their villages and reunite with their families. It wasn't fair. She settled against the front of the saddle, looking back at Haru. He was her friend. No matter how short their friendship had been, she didn't want to leave it behind.

Appa let out a melancholy groan as they lifted off into the air, and Katara watched Haru grow smaller in the distance. She barely heard it when Sokka announced that the plan was working—that Zuko's ship was following them north while the earthbenders sailed east. _It's going to be okay_ , she told herself. _We'll just keep moving, and everything will be fine._ Katara reached up, seeking the reassurance of her mother's necklace. But her hand closed around empty air, and her heart sank.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

And that's my take on "Imprisoned" (finally)! I'd love to hear what you all think of it—I try to respond to reviews, so if you have any questions or comments (or if you just want to yell randomness), go for it! I'll yell right back if I can!

Normally I'd have a lot say about the chapter, but beyond the fact that this whole journey through "Imprisoned" took longer than I expected but I'm really proud of how it turned out... I don't have much. I did write up some extended notes on my Tumblr—if anyone wants to read my ramblings, feel free to go and check that out (I have no originality when it comes to names, so I'm soopersara on there too). I really hope you all enjoyed it! And a million thanks to anyone who's left a review so far!

Thanks for reading,

SooperSara

PS: I'll be participating in Zutara Week this year, so keep an eye out for those fics at the end of July! Unfortunately, that means that Chapter 11 of _A Tale of Ice and Smoke_ is on hold until Zutara Week is over, but I do have some of it written already. I have no idea how long it will take the finish drafting and revising when I get back to working on this fic, but rest assured, it's still coming! I'm just a slow writer, and house shopping is cutting into my free time pretty badly.


	11. Water: The Valley of Spirits: Part 1

**Water**

 **The Valley of Spirits: Part 1**

"Are you sure you won't join me, Nephew?" Uncle let out a contented sigh and settled deeper into the water. "Hot spring bathing is good for the spirit."

Zuko's jaw clenched as he pointedly turned his head away. "For the last time, Uncle, it isn't a hot spring if you have to heat the water yourself." In fact, he wasn't convinced that this was a spring at all. It was a hole in the ground that happened to be filled with water. And it smelled. Zuko tried to keep his expression neutral, or at least fixed in its customary scowl, but the smell was too much. He waved his hands in front of his face in a vain hope of clearing the air.

"Minerals," Uncle said.

"What are you talking about?"

"The smell." Uncle smiled and closed his eyes. "There are minerals in these waters. Excellent for the skin, but rather unpleasant to the nose."

Zuko gave up on trying to wave the stench away and pinched his nose shut. "I don't care how good it is for your skin. It smells worse than your feet."

Of course that earned a chuckle. "Perhaps it takes some getting used to."

"I'm _not_ going to get used to it. If you bring that stench back to the ship, you'll be sleeping on the deck for the next week." Zuko crossed his arms.

"Ah, the grandeur of the night sky. I have often wished for more opportunities to sleep beneath the stars." Iroh laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back, closing his eyes.

With a grunt of frustration, Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. "Uncle, we need to leave. The Avatar is heading this way."

For once, he had a plan. He'd caught sight of the airbender's bison yesterday, and after a few hours of poring over his maps, he had a fair idea of where the Avatar was going. The bison was heading north, the Avatar seemed to stop at villages whenever possible, usually at midafternoon or early evening, and there was one and _only_ one village on her path and within a reasonable distance. All he had to do was get there before the girl, wait for her little group to settle in for the night, then attack before they had a chance to fight back. It would be quick, it would be clean, and he would have both the Avatar and the airbender in hand.

Uncle made a contented sound and settled farther back against the side of the murky pit. "There is time, Prince Zuko. I have seen your charts. Senlin Village is not far." He yawned and rested his head back against a rock. "In the meantime, a bit of relaxation is in order. All these weeks at sea are a strain on my old bones."

Zuko rolled his eyes. _Old bones_. Uncle was old, there was no question about that, but he never complained about his _old bones_ unless he was feeling particularly lazy. It had happened once when Zuko suggested that they trek cross-country through the abandoned territories surrounding the Southern Air Temple, and again when he insisted that they search the areas around the three other Air Temples. Uncle eventually agreed to all four journeys, but not without complaining loud enough to alert anything or anyone living in the next three valleys.

"You know I could leave you behind. Lieutenant Jee would be more than capable of backing me up on this mission."

Uncle didn't so much as stir.

"I could leave you here," Zuko repeated. "I could capture the Avatar and go home, and you would still be here. All alone. Forever."

One bronze eye opened a slit, and Uncle gave him an appraising look. Zuko fixed his expression into a deeper scowl and planted himself more firmly, arms crossed.

"Hmm." Uncle closed his eye again and let out a breath. Fresh curls of steam rose from the surface of the pool. "Just a few more minutes."

Zuko swore and let a stream of sparks out of his mouth. "Fine. But if you're not done by the time I get back from the ship, I'm leaving you behind."

* * *

"Whoa." Aang's eyes widened as they made their way down the street. "What do you think happened here?"

Katara followed his gaze. After the blackened, ruined expanse of the southern forest, the village had seemed like a quiet, respectable place—a respite from the destruction. Beyond the gates, it looked a bit like Haru's village, with a little less bustle in the streets, and decidedly fewer Fire Nation banners hanging from the buildings. That had to be a good sign.

Or it would have been a good sign if not for the fact that the first three houses on either side of the street were crumbling. And not peeling-paint-and-sagging-rafters crumbling, the sort that came naturally with age and neglect, but reduced-to-rubble crumbling. Entire walls lay flat on the ground, freshly painted but split into jagged sections. The splintered ends of the protruding wooden beams were still bright and unweathered—whatever had happened here must have been recent.

"Hmm." Sokka scratched at his chin. "Let's think about this really hard, Aang. The forest is burned down. There are komodo rhino tracks all over the place. And now the village is destroyed. I'll give you three guesses who did this."

Katara frowned. "Sokka—"

"I don't think this was the Fire Nation," Aang spoke up over her. "Look around. Nothing's burned here."

He was right. No matter where she looked, there wasn't a single scorch mark. No blackened corners or smoky smudges left behind.

"If it wasn't them, then what happened?" Katara kept her voice low. The ruined skeletons of the houses were strangely pristine, and after the forest, the undeniable evidence of the Fire Nation's hand in the devastation, the village was jarring. An uneasy sensation settled in the pit of her stomach.

"It was the spirits." Aang didn't so much as hesitate, and his voice was uncharacteristically grave. "I can feel them."

"You can—" Sokka's forehead scrunched and he let out a long breath. "He can feel spirits now," he mumbled, and let out a string of incoherent noises. He shot a look up at the sky then turned a frown on Aang. "Whatever. You've said weirder stuff." Grumbling, he stomped on ahead.

Unperturbed, Aang grabbed onto Katara's arm. "Can you feel that too?" He stood stock-still in the middle of the street, staring at nothing in particular.

She stopped beside him and tried to figure out what he was looking at. "I guess I feel _something_."

"That's it," Aang breathed, eyes wide. "Katara, we're the bridge to the spirit world! The spirits are restless and it's our job to fix it."

Katara frowned. There was a vague unease in the pit of her stomach and a prickle at the back of her neck, but neither seemed particularly spiritual to her. Being followed by the royal patrols in Omashu had given her the same feeling. She didn't doubt Aang. She couldn't. But whatever strange connection he felt to the spirits here, she didn't share it.

* * *

"Uncle! You'd better be ready. We don't have any more time to waste."

Zuko shoved his way through the last of the brambles and burst into the clearing. A flash of red draped over a branch caught his attention.

Zuko clapped a hand over his eyes. "I told you to be ready to leave, Uncle. Why aren't you dressed?"

Silence.

"Uncle?"

A sour knot of dread settled in the bottom of his stomach when the only response was more quiet. He cringed as he parted his fingers enough to peer between them. If he were lucky, Uncle might still be submerged, or the spaces between Zuko's fingers would be narrow enough that he didn't have to see— _everything._ Uncle was never shy about wandering from his cabin to the washroom and back in nothing but his underclothes, and that was more old-man nudity than Zuko _ever_ wanted to see.

But the spring was empty. And as Zuko opened his hand wider, he saw that the clearing was too.

Zuko let his hand drop. Something felt wrong here. Very, very wrong.

"Uncle!" he called into the forest. "Uncle, where are you?"

Something rustled in the bushes behind him, and Zuko spun to face it, palms turned outward, poised to strike. The leaves trembled faster and louder, nearer and nearer. Zuko's jaw set and he let the heat start building in his hands.

A badgerfrog hopped from the undergrowth and let out a deep, rumbling croak. Zuko blinked. _What?_ The heat died in his palms and his shoulders slackened while the bulbous black eyes stared up at him. No one was attacking. The bushes had gone quiet again, and the fat badgerfrog blinked one eye, then the other.

Zuko let out a slow breath. "You're lucky I have more important things to worry about." He jabbed a finger at the badgerfrog. "I almost roasted you."

It croaked as if in reply, then hopped, utterly unconcerned, between his legs and on across the clearing.

Zuko let his arms drop and relaxed out of his stance. Uncle was gone. But by some miracle—or some trick, more likely—no one else seemed to be around either. Uncle would call it a stroke of good fortune. Zuko knew better than that. Something bad had happened here. Something _terrible_.

The footprints caught his notice first. There were too many of them, too many pairs of feet, several of them too long, and almost all too narrow to belong to Uncle. There were scuff marks in the soil and broken branches in the undergrowth, footprints crossing over one another, all muddled by motion, and twin trails of smoothness where something had been dragged away.

"Uncle," he said through clenched teeth, head down as he followed the tracks across the clearing.

"General Iroh, the men were wondering—" Lieutenant Jee crashed through the bushes and stopped in his tracks, staring at the jagged stone spikes protruding from the sides of the basin-like spring. "Where's the General?"

Zuko scowled. "Not here."

The scuff marks were heading east—he trailed them through a grove of sharp-smelling evergreens to the edge of a wide, rutted track. Between the barefooted tracks, the occasional imprint of Uncle's pudgy sandaled feet was unmistakable. Earthbenders. It had to be earthbenders. The tracks overlapped so much that it was hard to tell how many of them, but the earthbenders had dragged Uncle this way, that much was obvious. And once they got the old man to the road—oh, no.

Ostrich horse tracks. By now, they would be miles away.

Zuko's fists clenched tighter. He should have known better than to leave Uncle here alone. The Earth Kingdom was a dangerous place, Zuko _knew_ that. He should have stayed. He should have dragged Uncle out of the water personally, back to the ship, complaints be damned. But Zuko hadn't thought things through. Of course he hadn't. Though, to be fair, Uncle wasn't much better this time.

Lieutenant Jee marched up behind him. "What is this about, Prince Zuko?"

Zuko straightened and shot a glare over his shoulder. He didn't owe the lieutenant any explanation. "Bring me one of the komodo rhinos, Lieutenant. I'm going to bring my uncle back."

The lieutenant looked skeptical. With an almost inaudible groan, Jee gave a slight bow. Not as deep as it should have been, but Zuko didn't have time to address the disrespect at the moment. "Which one of the rhinos should I send, sir?"

Zuko's face heated slightly and he set his jaw. He _really_ needed to stop leaving Uncle unsupervised. "Jasmine. Send me Jasmine."

* * *

"Do we have a plan?" Katara asked in a whisper. She could feel the villagers' expectant eyes on her back as they made their way from the town hall back toward the gates. They were counting on her and Aang—well, Aang, mostly—to vanquish whatever spirit was terrorizing their town.

Aang shrugged. "Talk to the spirit, I guess."

"The spirit that's been trying to destroy the town. The spirit that's been kidnapping people?" Sokka folded his arms. "You think talking is going to be enough to stop it?"

Katara scowled at him. "Problem, Sokka?"

He shrugged. "Nah, just clarifying. I don't know anything about this spirit-y business. Your guess is as good as mine."

Rolling her eyes, Katara poked his shoulder. "You know, you don't _have_ to come with us. I'm sure Aang and I can figure this out."

"Yeah, Sokka." Aang cast a doubtful frown at Sokka's club and boomerang. "You're not exactly Mister Spirit World. I'm sure me and Katara can handle this one ourselves."

"Hey!" Sokka's voice squeaked midway through the word. "This thing crushes whole buildings. Excuse me for thinking a little muscle might be helpful."

"Very little," Katara mumbled. She ignored the grumpy look he shot at her. "So—" Katara nudged Aang. "Any idea what we have to tell an angry spirit?"

He shook his head. "We never had any angry spirits around the Air Temples. The Air Nomads were always at peace with the Spirit World."

Katara bit her lip. She'd always paid attention to Gran-Gran's stories about the spirits—more than Sokka had, at least—but the ballad of the first aurora didn't seem helpful. There were warnings too—the spirits demanded that hunters give proper thanks for their kill, they would seek revenge for improper use of sacred ground—but avoiding the spirits' wrath was different than ending it.

"I guess we can ask it nicely to stop," Aang said, looking hopeful.

"That's—one idea." They came to a stop at the gates. Turning her face toward the setting sun, Katara rested a hand on the waterskin at her hip. "That's definitely one idea."

* * *

Of the four komodo rhinos they kept on the ship, Jasmine was Zuko's least favorite. Not that he had any particular fondness for _any_ of them. That would be ridiculous. Komodo rhinos were beasts of war, not pets. He'd learned that the hard way when he tried to pet Jasmine little more than a month into his banishment and earned a nasty bite on the forearm for his troubles. Jasmine was big and brutish, with a habit of ramming anything that moved. By the end of the first year, the men had to put corks on Jasmine's horns to reduce goring incidents.

Given the choice, Zuko would rather have taken Goji or Noodles—Ginger was Uncle's favorite, but he didn't usually obey Zuko. But rescuing Uncle would require speed. For all his other flaws, Jasmine was at least fast.

Zuko wrinkled his nose as he slung himself up into the saddle.

Lieutenant Jee noticed and raised an eyebrow. "If you would prefer, Prince Zuko, I can always send Jasmine back and have Taro bring Goji instead."

Zuko scowled down at the reins. "That won't be necessary, Lieutenant," he said through clenched teeth as Jasmine shifted beneath him. "Go back to the ship and wait for my orders."

Jee shrugged, and Zuko snapped the reins. It was fortunate that Jasmine was so fond of running. There was no telling how far the earthbenders were planning on taking Uncle. If he was fast enough—lucky enough—Zuko could catch up before they reached their destination. Before they sealed Uncle up behind walls, out of reach forever.

 _No._ His grip tightened on the reins, and he leaned forward, urging Jasmine on. That _wasn't_ going to happen. He would get to Uncle. He would fight to free him, and they would return to the ship unharmed. Luck be damned. Zuko was not going to lose Uncle like this.

He kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead, tracing along with the ostrich-horse tracks. So long as the earthbenders didn't split up—and if they had even an inkling of who they had captured, they should know better than to reduce his guard—Zuko should be able to track them without trouble.

 _And the second I have Uncle back,_ he told himself, _we go for the Avatar._ He'd already lost too much time. It was rapidly closing in on evening, and he needed to time this ambush perfectly if he meant to succeed this time. Capturing the Avatar and the airbender while they slept wasn't the most honorable tactic he could think of, but after his last few disastrous attempts, he needed every possible advantage. But Uncle had to come first.

The ostrich horse tracks led to a shallow, fast-moving river and plunged into the water. Zuko squinted across to where the road continued, a little narrower, a little rockier than before. In the fading light, it was hard to tell for certain, but he thought he could see dark, glistening patches where the ostrich horses had emerged on the other side.

"Come on." He dug his heels into Jasmine's sides. "We're catching up with them."

A snort. Jasmine stepped into the water, then balked, scrabbling back from the bank, head lowered. Zuko snapped the reins to urge him on, but Jasmine only snorted again and twisted his great horned head to the side.

Zuko swore under his breath. Of course. This was just typical. _Of course_ his fastest komodo rhino was afraid of water. Nothing else had ever gone right for him, why would it start now?

Grumbling, Zuko dismounted. He hesitated an instant before coming around to Jasmine's head—what if Jasmine took this as an invitation to gore him? But the beast merely snorted again, shaking his head, the whites of his eyes showing.

"You have to be kidding," Zuko said. "How are you afraid of water? You live on a _boat_."

Jasmine made a sound that was somewhere between a rumble and a hiss and snapped his head to the side when a few droplets splashed up from the river.

With a groan, Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. Maybe he should have taken Ginger instead. Ginger was slower than Jasmine and disinclined to obey anyone aside from Uncle, but at least Ginger liked swimming. In fact, it was difficult to get Ginger _out_ of the water at times. A bit like Uncle, in some ways.

On second thought, it was probably better that Ginger wasn't here. The last time they'd taken Ginger out, it took six of the crew to haul him out of the water. Dragging Jasmine to the other side of the river would be difficult enough.

Zuko's jaw and fists clenched. Why on earth had Father seen fit to saddle him with the Fire Nation's most useless— _everything?_

He let out a slow breath, trying to force those heavy, acrid feelings back down where they belonged. It wasn't fair of him to think that way. The war was still raging on. There was only so much that the Fire Nation could spare, and Father had given him the best of what the military could do without. Zuko knew that. It would be ungrateful to think otherwise.

"Let's go," he growled, tugging on the reins. Water seeped in through the seams of his boots as he stepped back into the river, and his scowl hardened. "Come on, Jasmine, you're surrounded by a lot more water than this every day. You can cross one measly little river."

Jasmine snorted again and braced himself, edging farther back onto the bank.

 _Damn it_. He'd have to try a different tactic. Letting the reins drop, Zuko waded back to the bank and gathered up a few handfuls of tall, fragrant grass. Cautiously, he held them out as an offering.

"It's okay, Jasmine. Look at this yummy grass." Zuko thanked the spirits that no one else was around to hear him. He allowed his voice to soften. "You can have all of it if you just cross the river and help me get to Uncle."

Jasmine tossed his head, but his nostrils flared, and he stretched toward the handful of grass. Zuko inched back into the river a step at a time, keeping the grass just out of the komodo rhino's reach until his great clawed foot plunged into the water again.

Jasmine grunted and tried to back away again, but Zuko held the grass a little closer, allowing the beast a small mouthful. "That's it," Zuko said when Jasmine became too intent on chewing to notice the water lapping around his ankles. "I don't like you, and I know you don't like me, but this is some good grass, isn't it?" Jasmine stretched for another mouthful, and Zuko took another step back. "Get another foot in the water and you can have another bite." He waved the grass in what he hoped was a tantalizing manner and felt a small thrill of satisfaction when Jasmine obeyed.

Luring Jasmine into the water was a slow process, but offering another clump of grass for every step forward seemed to curb the worst of the beast's temper, and by the time that Zuko ran out of grass, they were more than halfway across. Grabbing hold of the reins again, he pulled—Jasmine rumbled and snorted but didn't resist. The riverbank was near enough now that even a dumb, mindless animal like Jasmine had to realize that it was quicker to continue than it was to turn back.

Zuko's feet sloshed soggily in his boots when he finally emerged on dry ground again, and he frowned back at Jasmine. "You realize you made that a lot harder than it needed to be, don't you?"

Jasmine snorted and turned to a clump of grass growing by the edge of the road.

Suppressing a groan, Zuko slid his boots off and dumped the water out. They were still shopping wet when he pulled them back on, but there was no time to steam them dry. Uncle had to be close. In the dim evening light, the ostrich horse tracks were still distinguishable but fading fast.

"Let's go," he snapped, swinging himself up into the saddle, trying to ignore the squelching noise his feet made when they settled into the stirrups. "We're nearly there."

* * *

"Ahhhh!" Sokka ran toward Hei Bai's massive hind leg, club raised over his head.

"Sokka, be care—" Katara shouted as Hei Bai flicked him away like it was nothing. "—ful." Her brother landed in a heap in the middle of the street. She winced. That must have hurt.

She darted forward and flung a sharpened disk of water at the spirit. The water made impact, but the spirit creature didn't so much as flinch. Rather than slicing into the smooth black flesh or at least splashing back so she could gather up the fallen droplets and try again, the water just sort of _absorbed_ into the creature.

"Hey, Hei Bai! Please stop crushing things!" Aang hovered by its head on a sphere of air. "My friends and I are here to help, if you would just listen—"

The spirit let out a puff of air, and Aang's sphere dissipated, sending him tumbling to the ground.

Katara grit her teeth. Hei Bai was bearing down on the next house in the row, and she had lost more than half of her water in her first failed attempts at bending at it. Drawing the rest of the water out of her waterskin, she formed it into a ball as she ran into the spirit's path. Aang's just-ask-it-nicely tactic clearly wasn't working, and neither was attacking outright. Maybe she could slow it down instead.

Breathing hard, she managed to get ahead of the spirit, and with a shout of effort, she spread the water into a mostly-even glaze on the ground and froze it just before the spirit's foot landed. Hei Bai slipped, and Katara dodged to the side as its massive shoulder came crashing down.

She was too close. It was too big and too heavy and falling too fast, directly toward her. In her panic, she tripped and let out a scream.

Katara threw her arms over her head, bracing for the inevitable impact. She heard the thump as Hei Bai landed. But she felt nothing.

She opened her eyes to see the sleek, snarling head slowly rising from the ground, and she scrambled backward, pushing herself to her feet. Not crushed, then. A nagging sensation of doubt pricked at the back of her neck, but there was no time to worry about that now.

"Leave these people alone!" she shouted, trying to draw the water back to herself. She should have borrowed Sokka's machete or a fishing spear—weapons didn't seem to have much effect, but she was practically unarmed now. She would feel better if she had more than a few drops of water at her disposal.

Hei Bai roared and swiped at her, but before the paw could make contact, Sokka charged in from the side and pushed her out of the way.

"Sokka!" She ran back in and snatched his hand, but not before Hei Bai's paw closed around him. "Let him go!" she cried, pulling as hard as she could.

"Ahhhhhh!" Sokka whacked at the beast's paw with his free arm. "Yeah, you big brute, let me go!" His club thumped uselessly against the smooth black arm, and he turned back to Katara. "Do something, Katara!"

She braced her feet against a rut in the ground and pulled harder. "I'm _trying!_ "

"Ow! I didn't ask you to pull my _arm_ off. Do something—Avatar-y."

She scowled and yanked his hand again as Aang came racing around the spirit creature. "Aang! Come help me!"

But apparently the yelling was too much for the spirit—before Aang could reach them, Hei Bai swiped at Katara with its other paw, claws bared. There was no time to duck or dodge out of the way. The razor-sharp edges caught the light for an instant before she squeezed her eyes shut.

The impact never came. There was a faint rush of air that might have passed through the very core of her bones, and she opened her eyes to see Hei Bai's eyes looming terrifyingly close. It let out a horrible, piercing scream that made her ears ring and clawed at her again. This time, she watched in horrified fascination as the claws passed straight through her middle without leaving a mark.

Hei Bai ducked down to her level and unleashed a deep, bone-rattling growl inches from her face. In her surprise, her grip loosened on Sokka's hand, and before she had time to realize her mistake, the spirit tightened its grasp on Sokka and ran.

* * *

The fight didn't last long. Zuko didn't expect it to. The company of earthbenders fought well enough, but he had the advantage of surprise coupled with the speed and agility of his element. Not to mention an extremely aggressive komodo seemingly bent on ramming everything that wasn't Zuko.

Uncle beamed up at him when the last earthbender fell. "Your form is much improved today, Prince Zuko."

Perhaps that was meant to be a compliment, but Zuko only heard the echoes of all Uncle's disapproving comments during his training over the past few years. "You're _lucky_ I decided to come after you. How did you let them sneak up on you? Aren't you supposed to be the Fire Nation's greatest general? Why did you let a bunch of incompetent earthbenders get close enough to capture you in the first place?" Something hot and unpleasant twisted in his stomach. The boulder meant to crush Uncle's hands still lay intact at the far side of the gully. He'd almost been too late. Another minute wasted trying to ford the river with Jasmine would have been disastrous.

Yawning, Uncle stretched his arms over his head and then scratched his bare, round belly. "Travel is tiring, Nephew. I may have taken a brief nap. Hot springs are _so_ relaxing."

Shaking his head in disgust, Zuko drew a coil of rope from Jasmine's saddle and set to work tying up the earthbenders. "Put some clothes on, would you?" He yanked the knots as tight as he could, half-hoping that the ropes would cut into the soldiers' wrists. Zuko's heart was still racing, his mind still turning over the thoughts of everything that could have gone wrong. Had he been a moment later—his eyes drifted toward the boulder again and he pulled even harder on the ropes.

"About that. I don't suppose you brought my clothes with you?"

Zuko paused in his work, thinking back. Of course, he'd brought—no, Lieutenant Jee had gathered up Uncle's clothes. _Damn it._ "No," he snapped, his face heating. "Lieutenant Jee took them back to the ship. I had more important things to worry about." One of the earthbenders stirred, and he wrenched the last knot tight. It wouldn't be enough to actually hurt the man, but he hoped that it was uncomfortable. After what they'd nearly done to Uncle, a little discomfort was the least he could do.

"Very well." Uncle still sounded maddeningly cheerful. "I'll make do." Whistling, he padded across to the largest of the earthbenders and stooped closer to the man's face. "Excuse the inconvenience, sir, but I will have to borrow your clothes."

Zuko smacked himself in the forehead and turned away. The earthbender made plenty of loud, undignified complaints, but from the sound of it, there wasn't much he could do to fight back. Good. Much as Zuko wanted to keep Uncle safe, he had no desire to watch the old man fight in nothing but a loincloth. Not again. Not _ever_ again.

"Are you almost through?" he asked when the protests died down to vague grumbles and Uncle took to humming again.

"I believe so."

Zuko turned back. The earthbender still wore his armor, though his legs were bare, and it looked like Uncle had somehow snaked the man's undershirt from beneath his breastplate. The greenish brown trousers pooled around Uncle's ankles, and the front of the shirt hung open, unable to cover the old man's ample stomach. Uncle made an attempt at fastening the shirt and gave a sheepish smile when he failed.

"You look ridiculous," Zuko said flatly.

Uncle shrugged, patting his protruding stomach. "Never let it be said that your old Uncle Iroh has an insufficient sea of chi. Now—" He came forward and clapped Zuko on the shoulder, the chains on his wrists still rattling. "Where are we off to next?"

Zuko frowned. The sky had turned to a grayish indigo color, and the few stars he could see were faint at best. He knew that the Avatar had been headed north at last sighting, and Zuko had ridden Jasmine due east—or at least he _thought_ he had. He'd lost track in his hurry to catch up with Uncle's captors. That meant that they should head northwest—but exactly how far _north_ and how far _west_ he wasn't entirely sure. And even if he knew where he was in relation to the Avatar, he couldn't see the patterns in the stars clearly enough to know for certain which direction was which.

"Ah!" Uncle jabbed a finger up in the air. "Perhaps we might visit an old acquaintance of mine! We rarely travel this far inland, and a cup of tea from Madame Nuwa is not to be missed!"

"No." Zuko grabbed his uncle's shoulders and propelled him back toward Jasmine. "It's late, we've wasted too much time already, and you look like you belong in a troupe of clowns. We are _not_ going to visit a tea shop."

Uncle looked back over his shoulder. "It is not a teashop, Prince Zuko. Madame Nuwa is a florist. It is merely her expertise with flowers that allows her to brew such delectable teas." Eyes twinkling, he added, "And a good game of Pai Sho with a lovely and wise woman is one of life's greatest pleasures."

Scowling, Zuko shoved Uncle the last few steps toward Jasmine. "For the last time, I said _no_. We're going back to the ship, and then we're going to capture the Avatar. That's _all._ "

Uncle pouted as he swung up into the saddle behind Zuko. "Ah, my dear nephew. Someday I really must teach you the value of relaxation. Sometimes a straight line is not the shortest path to your goals."

Suppressing a groan, Zuko snapped the reins and Jasmine sprang into motion. It was good to have Uncle back, it really was. That didn't make his ramblings any more helpful or any less irritating.

* * *

Katara doubled over, hands on her knees, breathing hard. She couldn't run anymore. She'd left the village far behind, and the sky was fading to blackness overhead.

Hands shaking, she wiped at her eyes. When the spirit ran off with Sokka, Aang had taken off in pursuit on his glider. Katara ran after them, but her legs could only carry her so fast. By the time she reached the village gates, Hei Bai was cresting the first rise in the road, Aang not far behind. She kept running.

When she lost sight of them, she told herself that the spirit creature must have disappeared over the next rise in the road. And when she reached that spot to find that it was as level as ever, she decided that it must have been the next curve in the road instead. She couldn't stop. Hei Bai had _her brother_.

But eventually the enormous footprints faded and stopped, and after cresting a few more rises in the road with no sign of the boys or the spirit, Katara couldn't see the use in continuing.

Fighting to catch her breath, she straightened, looking around. The moon was just beginning to rise, and its light cast a faint silvery glow over the forested path, but there was nothing to see. It was silent, too. None of Aang's chattering, none of Sokka's shouting and cursing, none of the spirit's unearthly shrieks. It was still. And she was alone.

A tear ran down her cheek. It wasn't supposed to go like this. She and Aang were supposed to be able to stop the spirit, Sokka was still supposed to be with her, but instead—instead, _everything_ was wrong. She was miles from the village by now, and the boys were still missing. Even Appa and Momo were still back at the village. That left her. And no one else.

 _If you ever get lost,_ she heard Gran-Gran's voice tell her, _stay where you are. We will find you. Every time, little one. We will always come find you._

She swallowed back the lump in her throat. That didn't do her any good here. She was in the middle of the road in the middle of a forest in the middle of the Earth Kingdom, half a world from home. No one would look for her here. The owlcats and viperbats would find her first. Besides, she wasn't the one who was lost. She knew her way back to Senlin Village. Maybe that was the best place to start.

Her shoulders were slumping and her feet dragging by the time the lights of the village came back in sight. A cluster of village elders waited at the gates, a lantern held high between them.

"You're back!" A small, sharp-eyed old woman waved both arms over her head and bustled forward to meet her. "We were all beginning to worry."

Katara couldn't force herself to smile. "I'm back." Her voice sounded hollow, even to her, and her eyes burned.

"Oh, my dear." The old woman tucked a lock of Katara's hair back. "Where have the others gone?"

An old man joined them and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. "The Avatar?" he prompted. "Where is the Avatar?"

A hard, bitter part of her wanted to laugh. _I'm right here. The Avatar hasn't gone anywhere._ But a fresh stream of tears broke loose instead. "It's just me. Hei Bai—it got my brother, and Aang—Aang _followed,_ and I don't know what—" She swiped the back of her hand across her face. The blanket's warmth was nice, but it engulfed her, reminding her how small, how alone she was here. "I don't know what happened to them."

There was a heavy sigh from nearer to the gates. "Then that's the end. With the Avatar gone—"

The little old woman shot a look back toward the gates and the pair of knobby hands on Katara's shoulders tightened. She heard the rest of the sentence anyway. _With the Avatar gone, nothing can save us. With the Avatar gone, Hei Bai will come back for the rest of us. Just like it would have had the Avatar never come._

"Enough, you old prune." The old woman pursed her lips. The fact that the man she was speaking to could hardly be half her age didn't seem to bother her. "The poor girl has had enough sorrow for one night without your dramatics."

The village leader shook his head and lowered the lantern. "What good does it do to lie? The spirits have turned against us. There is nothing we can do without the Avatar." He gave Katara a slightly softer look. "We appreciate your help. But I'm afraid that there's nothing more we can do. If you do not wish to meet the same fate as your friends, I can only advise that you leave the Senlin Valley in the morning. There is no reason why the spirits should claim another child."

As the man spoke, Katara tensed. She and Sokka were meant to look after one another. That was how this _worked_. She couldn't leave him behind. No matter what.

" _No!_ They're still out there somewhere, I know it. I don't care what you say. I don't care what anyonesays, I'm _not_ leaving here without them."

The village leader gave her a look of sorrow, and she glared in response, hot tears still streaming from her eyes. This was good. These were angry tears now. Angry tears weren't helpless tears.

The old woman came to stand beside her. "It's been a long night, dear. Hei Bai will not trouble us again until tomorrow." She patted Katara's shoulder. "Come. Things will be clearer in the morning."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

I'm back! Now let's all agree not to look at the date I last updated this fic, okay? Okay.

I keep asking myself,What on earth have you been DOING with yourself that you let this story sit for so long?But if I'm being honest... actually, I've done a lot. I went from the bottom of the heap at work to one of the main trainers for my department, a member of a software committee, and one of four people with access to higher-level tasks. I went from living in a slightly crappy apartment with a loud, extroverted roommate, fully expecting to live there for another 2–3 years... to living alone in a house that I own. I became an aunt to an adorable nephew (who I sadly haven't been able to meet yet). And I wrote, edited, and posted every other fic on my profile 

~~self promo moment: if you haven't read any of my other stuff, I'd love it if you checked them out! I'm so proud of a lot of those stories!~~

Oh, and I finished four fairly long chapters for this fic. Weekly updates, here I come!

The next three chapters are a lot of fun, so I hope you stick around for them, and I'll keep working to 

~~hopefully~~

extend the weekly updates a little farther. In the meantime, reviews are always appreciated!


	12. Water: The Valley of Spirits: Part 2

**Water**

 **The Valley of Spirits: Part 2**

Zuko meant to head toward Senlin Village, he really did. This was supposed to be quick—ride back to the ship, gather Lieutenant Jee and a few of the more competent crewmen, then ride for Senlin. Quick, simple, and clean. The village wasn't too far inland—he'd missed his chance to ambush the Avatar and her companions before nightfall, but as long as everything went smoothly, he could still use the darkness to his advantage.

But Zuko should have known better than to expect _anything_ to go well. Somehow, _somehow_ , he'd forgotten how ridiculous Uncle could be. And how impossible Jasmine was. And how the two of them in combination could stop an entire army in its tracks just by _irritating_ them.

Even before they made it to the river, there were problems. Uncle couldn't seem to find a comfortable position in the saddle and complained about it incessantly, but whenever Zuko offered to stop, Uncle just fidgeted a little more and declared that he wouldn't want to cause any inconvenience. Right. Because it was _so_ much more convenient to have a fat old man leaning from one side to the other, tipping the saddle with his girth and grumbling. But Zuko was in a hurry, and he wasn't in the mood for games. If it meant saving even a few minutes' time, he'd take Uncle at his word. At least Jasmine wasn't causing much trouble.

But then they approached the river. Zuko urged Jasmine faster and faster. If they were moving fast enough, maybe Jasmine wouldn't notice the water until they were partway across.

Zuko wasn't that lucky.

They hit the water at full speed and Jasmine let out an unearthly shriek, then reared back on his hind legs. It took all of Zuko's strength to hang onto the reins and keep himself from sliding backward off the saddle, but Uncle wasn't quick enough. The old man slipped, creating an impressive splash when he landed in the river.

Zuko swore aloud and dragged on the reins to pull Jasmine back under control. It _would_ be just his luck to rescue Uncle from a bunch of earthbenders only to have him trampled by one of their own komodo rhinos.

Still seated in the water, Uncle chuckled and raised a small flame over his head to illuminate the river. "If you wished to make a comment on my hygiene, nephew, you might have waited until we were back to the ship. I'm afraid a dip in a river will do very little to wash away the scent of the hot springs."

Zuko swore again and yanked Jasmine's head to the right, directing the beast's prancing, clawed feet away from Uncle's legs. "That's not—"

Jasmine tossed his head and snorted, jerking hard enough to send a spurt of water clear up to Zuko's shoulder. Grumbling under his breath, Zuko turned the creature back onto the shore and dismounted.

"That's _not_ what I was trying to do," he snapped at Uncle, who still smiled blithely up at him from the river. "This worthless beast hates the water."

"Does he?" Uncle pushed himself to his feet, his borrowed shirt hanging even wider open now that it was dripping wet. "How did you manage to come this way before if he is so averse to water?"

Zuko scowled. "I—" he stopped himself. His face heated at the thought of the stupid baby-talk he'd had to use to coax Jasmine into the water. He'd rather drown than explain that to Uncle. "Just—" He waved vaguely across the river. "Cross. You can't get more wet than you are already. I'll worry about Jasmine."

Uncle gave a strange look before he obliged, and Zuko let out a slow breath. If there was another way— _any_ other way to get back to the ship in time, he would have taken it in an instant. He'd leave Jasmine behind and walk the rest of the way if he didn't know that it would take a full day to cover the distance on foot. Longer if he wanted Uncle to come too.

He could feel the old man's gaze on his back as he gathered up the handfuls of grass he would need to lure Jasmine across the river. _Damn it._ It worked well enough last time, but _last time_ , Uncle wasn't here to stare like Zuko was some sort of exotic bird.

He thrust the clump of grass at Jasmine's snout and grabbed onto the reins. "Come on," he barked. "You've wasted enough time as it is. We're going back to the ship _now_."

Jasmine snorted at him and snapped at the handful of grass. Zuko jerked back just in time to spare himself a bite. Right. Jasmine was snappy at the best of times.

Uncle's gaze still weighed on his back, and Zuko's jaw clenched. He would not use that soft, wheedling tone again. Not in front of Uncle. Not even if the river was loud enough to cover the sound of his voice. Baby talk and coaxing were _not_ the proper response for a prince dealing with a water-shy komodo rhino.

So he barked orders and tugged and swore and yanked the grass out of Jasmine's reach every time the beast tried to snatch it, and slowly, jerkily, they made it into the river. Jasmine was only three strides into the water when Zuko ran out of grass, and it took a great deal more shouting and swearing and pulling before Jasmine took another step forward. Then the blasted animal decided to charge, and Zuko had to dive out of the way to keep from being gored in its frenzy to get out of the water.

Uncle caught the reins and hauled Jasmine to a stop on the far bank. "Unconventional methods, Prince Zuko," he called back across the water. "But I applaud your originality."

Grumbling, Zuko clambered back to his feet, dripping from head to toe, and marched—no, _sloshed_ —his way to the bank.

"Shut up." Zuko snatched the reins and swung up into the saddle. He held a hand out for Uncle. "Let's just get back to the ship."

* * *

Sokka wasn't sure where that great big, spotty, crooked-toothed beast had taken him, but it was swampy here. And gross. And it smelled. He tried breathing through his mouth, but that was worse than smelling it. He could _taste_ the swampiness when he breathed through his mouth. Blech. It was almost like spoiled meat.

"See, Aang?" he shouted to a tree, hoping that his voice would carry far enough that Aang could hear him and find him. "Spirits aren't that great. It's all big toothy things trying to eat people and they can't even do _that_ right." Although, on second thought, maybe Hei Bai _had_ eaten him. That would explain the smell.

Trudging toward what looked like dry land, he kept grumbling to himself. This whole thing was stupid. He'd _warned_ Katara and Aang that it was a dumb idea to mess with the spirits—not that he'd really believed that there were such a thing when they started out the evening—and while Hei Bai's existence had proven him wrong on the one point, _this_ proved him right on the other. Messing with the spirits was dumb. He was either kidnapped or eaten, all thanks to their incessant need to fix every little thing that was wrong with the world. It was probably an Avatar thing. That was all well and good—it was kind of their job to stick their noses in other people's business, but would it really kill them to wait until they had a little idea of what they were doing?

Well, it didn't matter. Sokka was not going to stick around here, in this nasty, swampy hole—stomach—whatever it was. He was going back to the village, collecting Aang and Katara, and then they were all leaving. Immediately. He would tie them both to the saddle if he needed to.

The raised patch of dry ground should be getting closer, but the farther he walked, the farther away it seemed to get. What was with this place? Did giant people-eating spirits have endless stomachs or something?

Fine. That wasn't the right way to go anyway, he just thought that it would be easier to walk on dry land. But the spirit had taken him west from the village—that meant that if he wanted to get back, he needed to go east. He squinted up at the sky, trying to decide if the hazy yellowish light was coming more from the right or the left. Maybe the left? That probably meant that left was west, since it had been evening before he got sucked into this stinky pit of suck. Although now that he looked a little closer, maybe the light was brighter from the right. He frowned and looked down. His shadow was stronger on his left side—no, his right. No, it was stronger behind him. _Definitely_ behind him. Before the light had a chance to move again, he turned decisively in his tracks and started marching back the way he'd come.

 _Take_ that, _stink-hole. You have to start pretty early in the morning to trick Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe._

* * *

The old woman had a room prepared for her. Well, not _just_ her. There was a narrow bed on either side of the door and a sleeping mat on the floor between them—the old woman and her husband had been ready for all three of them. Katara tried to ignore the prickling in her eyes and hugged Momo a little tighter. The lemur gave a small squawk of protest but remained curled up in her arms, almost as if he sensed her loneliness.

Katara crawled into bed and Momo curled up on her stomach. She stared up at the ceiling. It was too quiet here. She was used to hearing Sokka's mumbling and snoring from the next sleeping bag—aside from the Haishui rig, she couldn't remember a single night without it. And even _then_ , she hadn't actually gone to bed alone. The women's barracks had been plenty noisy, and Tae Yun refused to let Katara stray more than a few feet away. It was nothing like this. Even with Momo sleeping on her stomach, the solitude was almost crushing.

Katara slept, but not well, and not long. The sky was still black when she woke and crept out the door, not particularly well-rested, but unable to fall back asleep. Momo trotted along after her, giving a series of curious chirps until she found a stream just past the edge of the village. Katara drew a thick rope of water to her and scowling, launched it at the shadowy outline of a tree. She couldn't think of any way to help or find the boys, but she could still waterbend.

The sky remained black as she whirled through the forms she'd already learned, the smoothness of the motions coming a bit more naturally than before. She sent wave after wave lashing at the trees, imagining them all as Fire Nation soldiers. And when her pulse was racing, her lungs protesting the prolonged effort of the imaginary fight, she fell back into drilling the next form she'd memorized from her scroll. Tendrils of water thickened into rope-like masses, and as the sky began to fade from black to indigo to faint blue-gray, Katara worked through slight variation after slight variation until her stance and motions finally began to meld into one.

She was nearly ready to work through her old forms again when a voice from behind her broke through the quiet.

"It's rather early to be fighting the forest, don't you think?"

Katara yelped and the water rope burst apart, splattering across her face and down the front of her tunic.

The old woman chuckled. "I thought I might find you out here somewhere, but the state of the bushes is a bit of a surprise."

Katara cast a sheepish look at the twigs and leaves she'd severed and wrung the water out of her clothes. "I couldn't sleep. I thought practicing would be better than doing nothing."

"Has it helped?"

Katara shrugged. "I'd rather be out looking for them, but I don't know where to start." She kicked at a rotted stump. That was only half true. Hei Bai was the key— _it_ had taken the boys, it could bring them back. The problem was that Katara didn't know where to find Hei Bai. She'd run through the problem until she started to give herself a headache—Hei Bai lived in the Spirit World. Hei Bai had the boys. That meant that the boys—if Hei Bai hadn't eaten them—were in the Spirit World. And according to the villagers, the space between the Spirit World and the physical only opened at sunset. That meant that Katara couldn't get the boys back until sunset. That was fine. If she had a good enough plan, she could bring the boys back at sunset and they'd all move on from this spooky, spirit-infested town. But she couldn't come up with a plan if she couldn't learn any more about Hei Bai. And she couldn't learn any more about Hei Bai until it came back at sunset.

The old woman picked her way through a few shredded bushes and leaned against a crooked tree. "Do you have any ideas?"

Katara shrugged as Momo, apparently realizing that no more waterbending would be happening for a while, launched himself at her shoulder. "Not really."

"Humor an old lady. Any idea is better than none at all."

Shifting her weight, Katara disentangled Momo's little fist from her hair. "Well," she began slowly, "I think Hei Bai is taking people somewhere in the Spirit World." The other alternative didn't bear thinking about. She felt helpless enough without considering the possibility that the boys might be _gone_. "I think that if I knew how to stop Hei Bai, I could get them back."

The old woman studied her. "Do you?" Her tone was almost suspiciously nonchalant.

Katara nodded. "I'm not just going to give up because they're in the Spirit World. I need to get them back, Miss—" She faltered. If the old woman had introduced herself last night, Katara could no longer remember it.

"Just Nuwa." The old woman's gaze was surprisingly sharp, just like Gran-Gran's always was when Sokka and Katara had done something that they'd be in trouble for later. "You seem rather certain, young lady."

She looked back at Nuwa, confused. "Of course I am. That's my brother and my friend. I _have_ to get them back."

Nuwa studied her, wrinkled forehead creasing cryptically. Katara shifted a little uncomfortably. This was _weird_. She'd never met anyone who could muster an unreadable expression quite like this. Anyone aside from Gran-Gran, at least.

But then the old woman's cryptic expression disappeared under an animated smile, and she popped to her feet, her movements showing no sign of her age. "Come along, dear. We have some strategizing to do."

* * *

Zuko still meant to head back to Senlin. From what he remembered of the map, there was a road that led straight from the decrepit little harbor where his ship was moored to the village. Better yet, there was a bridge along that road. Jasmine wouldn't have to be coaxed and prodded across the river, and it wouldn't take half the crew to drag Ginger out.

He meant to head toward Senlin. It was still dark—he couldn't slow down long enough to judge the time by the position of the stars, but it couldn't be _too_ late. If they rode hard, they could make it to the village by daybreak. He refused to consider the alternative.

But when they finally made it back to the ship, Uncle insisted on a change of clothes, and Zuko couldn't bring himself to argue when he caught another glimpse of the too-long trousers and the too-tight undershirt. Besides, Zuko's own boots were soaked through. As long as they were here, he could spare a minute to change his boots while Uncle made himself presentable.

But Lieutenant Jee was waiting up for them, and when he saw the chains on Uncle's wrists, he swore aloud, glaring daggers in Zuko's direction.

 _It's not_ my _fault he looks like that_ , Zuko wanted to scream. It was Uncle's fault for getting caught in the first place. And Jasmine's fault for soaking them both. And Jee's fault for taking the clothes back to the ship instead of loading them into Jasmine's saddlebags. Anyone with _sense_ should have realized that Uncle would need clothes when Zuko caught up with his captors. Jee should have thought far enough ahead to accommodate for that.

But a high, creeping voice in his ear reminded him that Jee was merely a lieutenant. Not a very good one at that, if his assignment to _this_ ship were any indication. It wasZuko'sresponsibility to see that the correct orders were given, that the ship stayed on course, that all the men performed their duties. It was _Zuko's_ job to make sure that this sort of nonsense didn't happen in the first place.

Zuko didn't admit that, not aloud. Instead, he ordered the Lieutenant to stand down—Uncle was _fine._ The engineers could cut off the shackles, and it would be like none of this ever happened. That earned him an even fouler glare from one of the engineers, but Zuko didn't care. He stormed off to his cabin, feet squelching in his boots with every step.

He tried not to think about how close he'd come to earning that derision—how dangerously late he'd come to rescue Uncle. He'd managed it. Maybe Zuko _had_ barely managed to kick the boulder aside before it crushed Uncle's hands, but he'd brought the old man back unscathed. Of course, that wouldn't be enough for his crew if they knew the whole truth. They were hostile enough toward Zuko at the best of times. Letting them know how narrowly he'd avoided disaster could only make it worse.

Perching on the edge of his bunk, Zuko peeled off his dripping boots and socks—his feet were clammy and cold from the moisture, and the hems of his trousers were still soaked, but there wasn't any time to waste. Every moment he was here brought sunrise nearer, and sunrise—when it came—would mean the end of his plan. So he threw on a dry pair of socks and a fresh pair of boots—a set he'd nearly outgrown now, but they were sturdy and dry, and that was all that mattered. Once he got the Avatar and the airbending monk back to Father, he wouldn't have to worry about things like too-tight boots or wading through rivers to appease ornery komodo rhinos. He would be home. Everything would be right again if he could just get home.

After overturning the discarded pair of boots to dry over an air vent, he tramped back to the deck, and was met with chaos.

Jasmine was bucking against his harness while three of the lower-ranking crewmen tried to drag him into the hold. Uncle still wore the ridiculous Earth Kingdom getup and was sitting—quite contentedly—on the deck while an engineer examined his shackles. And Jee stood off to the side, gossiping like an old woman with one of the younger officers.

Zuko's hands clenched into fists. He meant to head for Senlin Village. He _had_ to get there before sunrise. If he didn't—if his search had to drag on much longer—his stomach lurched. No. He was going to capture the girl. And he was going to do it tonight. No amount of nonsense was going to stop him, not when he was this close.

Uncle laughed at something the engineer said, and Jee made a horribly rude gesture, and the other officer laughed. Zuko's vision narrowed, and red flashed at the corners of his eyes.

"That is _enough!_ " he roared, flames shooting from his fists. "I will not tolerate any more insubordination from _any_ of you." Seven pairs of eyes turned his way. "We are capturing the Avatar tonight, and I don't care what it takes." He whirled on the crewmen attempting to manhandle Jasmine. "Leave Jasmine here and bring the other three up if that isn't too difficult for you." He turned to Jee. "And you. I ordered you to organize the search party before I left. Get them here _now_." A final withering glare went Uncle's direction. "And for Agni's sake, if you can't get the chains off, at least put some real clothes on. You fought trained earthbenders wearing shackles, I _think_ you can handle a few peasant children that way too."

The usual irritation in Jee's expression turned to outright disgust, and the other crewmen's expressions were no friendlier. Too bad for them. Zuko was _not_ their friend. He had already tolerated far too much of their disrespect—too many music nights with Uncle, too many hungover mornings after music night, too many Pai Sho games while the men were still on duty. Zuko was too soft on them. He always had been. No more. He was going home, one way or another, and he couldn't afford that softness, that _weakness_ anymore.

"Go!" Zuko barked. "That's an order."

Uncle spoke first, his gaze even and steely, his voice steady. "Prince Zuko. Senlin Village is still several hours from here."

"It's ten miles!" Zuko roared, sparks flying from his fingertips. "That's barely half an hour by komodo rhino."

"Ten miles of narrow footpaths and jagged terrain," Uncle said. "The shortest path passes through a strip of nearly impassible cliffs and ravines. There is a road that may be used by komodo rhinos that goes around the cliffs, but it is twenty miles longer." His eyes narrowed a fraction. "It is late, Prince Zuko. The sun will rise shortly, and farming villages like Senlin rise early."

Desperation welled up in his chest. "So?" Zuko demanded. "This is still the best chance we've had. If we leave now, we can still capture the Avatar before sh—before the Avatar's group wakes."

"Think, Prince Zuko," Uncle demanded, rising to his feet. Even with the absurd Earth Kingdom outfit, he still managed to hold himself with a surprising amount of dignity. "How long will thirty miles of hard riding take you? How will you find the Avatar once you are there? Do you plan to knock on every door and wake the entire village? Even in a small village, the Avatar could be anywhere. If you must wake the villagers to find your target, you will lose every advantage you still hold."

"I can't give up this easily, Uncle!" His fingernails bit so deeply into his palms that he wouldn't be surprised if blood started to ooze out. "Only a coward would let this opportunity pass!"

Uncle shook his head, and Lieutenant Jee stepped forward. "How many brave men do you know who would be willing to lie down their lives for a doomed mission, Prince Zuko? Did Kyoshi Island teach you nothing? Four men and four komodo rhinos may be a match for the Avatar and his friends, but don't forget how quickly the balance tips out of our favor in the Earth Kingdom."

The men who had been struggling with Jasmine resumed their efforts at shoving the stubborn beast into the hold, and Zuko's vision flashed red again. _No_. This was supposed to be it. This was meant to be the night when he captured the Avatar, when he brought the Avatar back to the ship in chains, the monk at her side, and the Water Tribe buffoon as a bonus—a souvenir of sorts for Father. This was supposed to be where it ended. Zuko's years of fruitless searching—his constant travel was supposed to end tonight. He was supposed to be heading home.

But instead, he stood on the deck of his battered, second-rate, second-hand ship, in too-tight boots and still-dripping trousers, staring as three of his men fought to wrestle his too-aggressive and too-cowardly komodo rhino back into its stall. A painful tightness gripped around his chest. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He was a prince, for Agni's sake, the _crown prince_ of the Fire Nation. He was meant to have the best crew, the best mounts, the best ship, but he had none of it. He shouldn't have to rely on the cover of night to capture the Avatar—he should have the full might of the Fire Nation Navy at his back in his quest to capture their most dangerous enemy.

But instead, he was alone.

* * *

"Any tea for you, dear?" Nuwa called from the kitchen. "I always find that a good cup of tea is a great help when I need to think."

Katara dragged her eyes away from the clusters of dried flowers and leaves hanging from the rafters. There was a greater variety of plant life in the old woman's ceiling than she'd seen in her entire life at the South Pole. "Um." She wondered if Nuwa would have any of the varieties that Gran-Gran used to make for her. Probably not. "I guess so."

There was some clattering from the other room and after a few minutes, Nuwa emerged with a tray balanced on one hand.

"Sit, sit." Nuwa fluttered a hand toward the table. "Spirits, dear girl, you look ready to hop out of your own skin."

Katara fidgeted a bit. That wasn't _her_ fault. It was all those weird, knowing looks that Nuwa kept shooting her way, like the old woman could see straight into her mind. How was she supposed to relax when her friends were missing, and a strange old lady seemed bent on reading her thoughts?

She perched on the very edge of her chair and hesitantly accepted a cup from Nuwa. "So—" she began, staring at the rafters again. Anything to keep that piercing gaze at bay. "Are you an herbalist?" She'd heard of those before. The Southern Water Tribe didn't have much use for anything of the sort, since all their remedies came from seaweed extracts and various animal fats, but Gran-Gran had told her stories about the Earth Kingdom's herbalists once or twice.

"Oh, no. I've never had the patience for plain-looking plants." Nuwa settled back in her chair, brownish eyes fixed on Katara. "I sell flowers. But by happy coincidence, a few of my favorites do have medicinal qualities. Or make exceptional tea. Now." Nuwa thumped her cup down. "On to more important matters. Your friends."

Katara sat a little straighter and nodded eagerly.

"You believe you can retrieve them from the Spirit World?"

Katara hesitated. She _did_ believe it. She ought to be able to bring them back. She was the Avatar, after all. "Yes?" Her voice came out a little more uncertain than she would have liked. "I mean, it won't be _easy_. But if they crossed into the Spirit World, they should be able to cross back to our world again, right?"

Nuwa pursed her lips and tapped a finger against her chin. "Perhaps. You don't see any difficulty in it?"

"I—" Katara stopped. _Wait_. Did Nuwa suspect her? Was that what all the odd looks were for? "Why? Why are you asking?"

"Have you, by any chance, visited Omashu?" Nuwa carried on, seeming not to have heard the questions. "I hear it is a lovely place. An old friend of mine lives there. I hope to visit him someday."

 _Omashu? An old friend—_

"King Bumi?" Katara asked, incredulous.

A smile lit up the old woman's face. "I thought so." She took a long sip of her tea.

Oh, no. She knew. Nuwa _knew._ And if she knew, then her husband probably knew, and her friends, and her _husband's_ friends, and—

"Relax, dear. I know the value of a well-kept secret. In this case especially." Nuwa ran a gnarled finger around the rim of her cup. "I simply want to know what— _skills_ we might have to work with."

Katara's face heated anyway. So much for her secret.

Nuwa set her cup down and leaned forward. "Now. If what my friend tells me is correct, your young monk friend may very well have as good a chance finding his way back alone—" she gave Katara a meaningful look. "—as you would have trying to retrieve him. But of course there is the other boy—"

"Sokka," Katara interjected.

"Yes. And he will need help from one or the other of you in order to return."

Slowly, Katara nodded. "So—if Aang's trying to get back, and I'm trying to get them out from this side—"

"Your chances would seem far greater than if either of you were trying it alone, wouldn't they?"

Frowning, Katara stared at the cup in her hands, at the silvery wisps of steam swirling off the surface of the tea. "I guess so. But I still don't know what to do to help them." She flicked her hand to the side just to watch the liquid follow her movement. "Maybe if I knew what Hei Bai _wanted_ —"

"Ah." Nuwa leaned back, looking pleased. "That may be exactly the right question to ask. The spirits are not so different from us."

Katara raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"They have wants and needs. Emotions. Connections." She paused to point a knobby finger at Katara. "Spirits may not align to our logic, but all they do has a reason. And because their world is merely another layer on top of ours, divided by a bridge—"

"The Avatar," Katara interrupted quietly.

An almost mischievous twinkle appeared in the old woman's eyes. "Yes. The Avatar. The trouble with spirits is that because their world is invisible to us, we cannot always see their motives clearly."

"So where do I start? If the—the _bridge_ only opens at sunset—" Katara trailed off. Was there supposed to be some way for _her_ to open the Spirit World voluntarily? Or were there restrictions? Did _she_ have to wait until sunset to connect with the Spirit World? And how would she do that anyway?

"Hmm. Tussles with the spirits don't happen often, but when they do, the world does not forget easily. There are some marks—some _scars_ —that transcend generations." She gave a cryptic smile again. "Human memory is a fickle thing. Stories survive far longer than any of us, but the truth is not always so long-lived."

Katara frowned again. She knew plenty of stories about the spirits. Those were always Gran-Gran's favorites. The stories of the great wolf spirits who guided hunters on their journeys, penguin spirits who stole whole traps full of fish if improper offerings were made, ancestral spirits who danced in the sky as part of the aurora on the coldest nights—they'd been with her for her entire childhood. But Gran-Gran never told her and Sokka stories about how to deal with angry spirits. And now that she was half a world away trying to do just that, it struck Katara as a rather serious oversight.

"So where am I supposed to get these stories about how to defeat angry, brother-stealing spirits?"

The old woman smiled, tapping a finger against her chin. "I have just the thing." She bustled to a shelf across the room, searched a bit, and returned to present Katara with a narrow volume. "Stories—histories of the spirits in the Senlin Valley."

Katara ran a finger along the embossed cover and gave Nuwa a questioning look. "But I thought you said—"

"That stories are not the truth. Yes." Nuwa settled across from her. "But the truth isn't lost when the story is written. It's still there. Fragmented and hidden, usually, but the truth is there." Her smile broadened and she nudged Katara. "What are you waiting for? Even the world's great spirit bridge needs to prepare."

* * *

Sokka had been walking east for hours. Possibly _days_ , even. It was hard to keep track of time in this mucky pit of slime and moss and _gross_. But for all the walking, he'd made very little progress. His first destination was a stump on the other side of a murky pool of water—it took an hour to cross the pool, which couldn't have been much wider than Appa's saddle. Then he set his sights on a moss-covered knoll protruding from the water. That took another hour. This place was ridiculous. Really, he should start setting more demanding goals for himself if everything took an hour regardless of the distance.

He whacked a tree with his club to leave a dent as a marker for himself and looked back the way he'd come. Great. Everything behind him looked exactly the same as what was in front of him. Even the dent in the sodden, half rotten tree was the same. It was like he was standing in the surface of a mirror, the world perfectly reflected on either side of him.

With a groan, Sokka swung his club again. He wasn't making any progress, and whacking things probably didn't help matters, but it didn't _hurt_ either, and it felt good to do something. Even if that _something_ meant pummeling a dead branch.

After the third swing, the branch broke, but Sokka had put too much force into the strike, and he toppled forward with a yell. A manly yell. His voice _absolutely_ did not crack the instant before he landed in the mud.

Glowering and grumbling, he pushed himself up to his hands and knees. _Gross._ Some of the mud had gotten into his mouth, and it tasted worse than the air smelled. That shouldn't even be possible. He gagged and spat out the nasty greenish-brown slime. Sokka wasn't a priss and a neat freak like Katara, but this— _this_ was revolting. And he was covered in the stuff.

He was about to stand when he blinked the last of the murky haze out of his eyes. Somehow, the swamp looked—different from down here. _What?_ Still on his hands and knees, he spun around the muck. Every direction he turned, the swamp looked different. Not like the weird mirror-effect from before. Good. Maybe he could make some real progress now that the swamp wasn't trying its damnedest to keep him trapped.

Sokka hopped to his feet, and the world closed in around him until everything was the same no matter which way he turned. That—that shouldn't be happening. He crouched, and the world opened up again. He stood, and it turned back to a kaleidoscope of the same scenery repeated over and over again. Crouched, and there was a tree he hadn't seen before, and an almost human-shaped stump at the horizon. There was a _horizon_. That alone was a novelty for this place.

"Holy flying ice-bat balls." It came out almost as a yell, but Sokka didn't care. This swamp was _awful_. He _hoped_ somebody heard his opinion on the matter. "You've got to be kidding me, Hei Bai. How did you fit an entire fucking continent in your stomach?"

A burbling came from somewhere to his left, and a lumpy brownish creature—something a bit like a toad, if a toad had massive, branching antlers and a mouthful of nightmarishly human teeth—poked its head out of the slime. "Language," it said, its voice a strange sort of gurgling hiss.

Sokka's jaw dropped and he shook his head a little. But the thing was still there, still staring at him. "What? You don't want me swearing? I can't say ice-bat balls?"

The— _thing—_ blinked at him. "No," it gurgled. " _Sssstomach._ " Then as quickly as it had appeared, the creature submerged again, its drab brownish skin vanishing into the murk almost before the surface closed over its head.

Sokka stared at the place where the creature had disappeared, watching the small stream of bubbles slow, then stop entirely. What? He reached up to rub his eyes, then stopped himself when he remembered that his hands were coated in swampy slime. _What?_ A shiver ran up his spine and he set his jaw. That settled things. He _had_ to get out of here. Fast.

* * *

Katara spent hours poring over the little book while Nuwa puttered around the house, humming to herself and clattering tiles on some sort of gameboard in the far corner. Katara did her best to block out the sound. _This_ was what mattered. Learning about the spirits of the Senlin Valley so she could bring Sokka and Aang back was the _only_ thing that mattered.

There were tales of river guardians and spirits that seemed to live exclusively in tiny, confined spaces—an old widow's teapot, in one case—and still others that seemed only exist to cause humans minor inconveniences. One particularly malicious-looking spirit, a toad-like creature with antlers and a frighteningly human set of teeth, was said to steal socks from clotheslines, but only on the equinox, and only when the socks were hung by their toes. That seemed weird. But a few pages later, the book told her a story of how a swarm of firefly-like spirits had descended on the village and swapped every newborn child with the one next door, and the villagers—not wanting to anger the spirits—had simply accepted the change and raised the strange children as their own. That seemed weirder.

Katara _really_ hoped that that was what Nuwa meant when she said that stories didn't always tell the truth.

She read about monkey spirits and a willow tree said to contain the spirit of a long-dead warrior and a round formation of rocks outside the village that was supposedly the nest of an eagle spirit larger than a house. Every bit of it was strange, and none of it was helpful.

Or at least none of it was helpful until she turned to the page detailing the history of the guardian of the northern Senlin Forest. The part of the forest that had been reduced to ash. The illustration in rust-colored ink bore little resemblance to the beast she had seen last, but the more she read about it—the spirit's fierce protectiveness, its massive size, its immense strength—the more it began to fit together in her mind. Spirits weren't bound to the rules of the physical world, so if this one had a particular affinity for that part of the forest and had to see its destruction—Katara could hardly think of a better reason for a spirit to transform itself into a horrifying beast. It was a start, at least.

There was probably a ritual for this sort of thing. A ceremony to appease an angry forest spirit, something involving prayers and offerings, but Nuwa's book didn't offer any insights, nor did the rest of the villagers seem to understand what Katara was prattling about when she tried to explain why the forest spirit was destroying their homes and kidnapping their people.

Still, she prepared herself as much as seemed humanly possible. She gathered an entire basket of acorns while Nuwa collected an assortment of other seeds from the unscorched parts of the woods, and now, as the sun was setting, Katara stood alone at the village gates, a basket looped over either arm. It probably wasn't a conventional spirit offering, but without knowledge of the proper ceremonies or rituals or prayers, it was the best she could do. An assurance that, though they weren't to blame for the forest's destruction, the villagers would do all they could to restore it to its former glory. It would take years, but eventually Hei Bai would have its home back. Katara only hoped that that would be enough.

She squinted into the setting sun, murmuring, "Please work, please work, please work," over and over and over. The spirit couldn't harm her. That was the strongest reassurance she had right now, and it didn't do much to make her feel better. She needed to get the boys back, that was the part that still worried her. If she was right about the spirit, she shouldn't have any trouble releasing its hold on the village. Proper offering or not, she could prove that the forest wasn't gone for good. She could get the villagers to cooperate, to start replanting the forest if necessary. What else could Hei Bai possibly want? But that didn't guarantee that the spirit would release all its victims. And if it didn't—

Katara shook herself. Pessimism was not helpful. Right now, she had to worry about stopping Hei Bai. And if stopping Hei Bai wasn't enough, she would figure out the rest later. The solstice was still a day or two away. And if the spirit had already been crossing into the physical world for days, that meant that she should have plenty more chances to get the boys back. If this didn't work, at least. But it was going to work. It _had_ to.

The sky faded from a pale rosy color to orange to a deep shade of violet as the sun sunk below the horizon. It was quiet. Birds chirped somewhere in the forest, but the whole village had already retreated to the safety of the town hall, and there was little to indicate that this would be anything but a peaceful night.

But then the quiet dropped away to complete silence—the birds went still, as did the air and the trees. An unearthly cry split the air and Katara tightened her grip on her baskets.

Hei Bai thundered its way down the road from the depths of the still-standing forest where it had vanished last night, every one of its steps shaking the ground.

"Hei Bai!" she shouted when it was near enough. The spirit kept coming, charging as if to run her down. She steeled herself and strengthened her stance. "Guardian of the Senlin Forest. I know why you're here!"

Hei Bai slowed before her, snarling, with its massive, sharp teeth bared. Katara tried not to flinch when it swiped at her with a huge, sharp claw the way it had done last night—again, she felt the rush of wind pass straight through her middle as though she weren't even there. It let out something like a howl of rage.

"You're angry about what happened to your home." She thought of her own village, the rows of tents and igloos enclosed by a crude wall of snow and ice. She remembered the hurt and the rage she'd felt the first time she saw smoke rising from her own home. "I know what that's like." Her voice dropped a little.

A gust of warm, moist—and _putrid_ wind hit her face. Ugh, did all spirits have bad breath? Or was it just the angry, shape-shifting, panda-colored ones? Her nose wrinkled and her eyes watered, but she stood her ground. The spirit was watching her, _listening_. Or at least she hoped it was.

"My home was nearly destroyed when I was little." She lowered the baskets to the ground and gingerly pushed them forward. "Just like yours. But my people rebuilt. We lost things, and my home will never be the same as it once was, but it isn't gone. And neither is yours." The spirit snorted at her, releasing another warm, stinking gust. Katara held what she could of her last breath of fresh air and motioned to the baskets. "This village is trying to help you. They _didn't_ burn down your forest, but they are willing to help restore it."

Hei Bai let out another puff, but it wasn't moving anymore—it wasn't trying to attack or to come any closer to the houses that were still standing.

"Leave these people alone," she continued, her voice firm and steady. "Please. You've taken too many of their homes already. They can't help bring your forest back if they're this afraid for their own lives."

"Katara!" An orange and yellow blob came hurtling at her from the side and she turned to defend herself, only to end up flat on her backside with Aang's arms wrapped tight around her middle.

"Aang?" She hugged him back for a brief moment before wriggling out of his grasp and clambering to her feet. "Where have you been? Where's Sokka?"

"I don't know. Haven't seen him. Katara, I know who Hei Bai is! I know why he's been attacking—"

Katara blinked at Aang, then at the huge black and white spirit staring down at them. "Yeah, Aang. I figured that out too."

Aang followed her gaze back to the spirit and his eyes widened. Hei Bai let out a low, groaning sound, and there was a shift—Katara couldn't exactly tell how it happened, but one moment she was staring at the elongated, smooth-skinned spirit creature that she had come to know as the Hei Bai, and the next, an equally huge but decidedly less menacing-looking panda stood in its place. She let out a breath and felt the corners of her mouth tip upward. It had worked.

Aang glanced from the spirit to Katara and back again. "Whoa. You stopped it already?"

The spirit hadn't moved. Katara frowned. "I think so. I don't know. I kind of expected it to— _leave_."

"Huh." Aang hopped over the baskets, and Hei Bai stared passively at him. "Excuse me, Hei Bai, is there anything else we need to do?"

"I don't think it's going to answer—"

Seemingly in response, the spirit reached its paw forward—its claws were no less intimidating in panda form—and nudged one of the baskets. It snorted at Aang, the resulting burst of warmth making his tunic flutter.

"Um." Aang scratched his head. "I'm not sure what that means." He looked back at Katara for support.

The spirit turned its big black eyes on Katara and she hesitated. "Do—do you want us to start replanting _now?_ "

The spirit rumbled—Katara wasn't certain, but she suspected that that was meant to be an assent.

She shrugged helplessly at Aang. "I told it that the forest would grow back. I guess it wants us to keep that promise."

* * *

Between the two of them, Aang on his glider and Katara on Appa, the baskets were emptied in a matter of minutes. It wouldn't be enough to restore the whole forest, but it was a start. That had to be better than nothing.

When they returned, baskets empty, to the village gates, Hei Bai was already gone, the sun vanished below the horizon. Nuwa greeted them both with warm, grandmotherly hugs and cheerful chatter when they landed while her husband smiled, lantern in hand.

"You should have seen the Spirit World, Katara. It's so weird—it's like our world, but things don't work the same. I couldn't airbend. And there were times when I could see our world—I saw _you_ a couple of times, and I tried to talk to you, but I guess you couldn't hear me. Do you think that's what ghosts are like?"

Katara was only half-listening to Aang—her attention was on the forest. _Come back, Sokka. Please, please come back._

"The Spirit World is a curious place, young man," Nuwa said. "You would do well to be cautious before venturing there in the future." A smile crept over her lined face. "The creatures there might try to steal your socks."

There was rustling in the undergrowth, and Katara perked up when she saw a line of people emerging from the darkness and nothingness at the edge of the village.

"Sokka!" she shouted when she spotted him and sprinted to meet him. He didn't always welcome her hugs—it wasn't _manly_ enough, apparently—but this time, he threw his arms around her with an equal amount of gusto. "I missed you," she said, squeezing him and burying her face in his shoulder. Oh no. That was a mistake. He smelled _awful_. "Ugh, _Sokka_. What happened? You were only gone for a day. Don't you bathe?"

"Katara." Sokka's tone was uncharacteristically grave. "We're not messing with the Spirit World ever again. That place _stinks_."

Katara made a face and pushed away from him, pinching her nose shut. "Gross. Next time we find a lake, I'm splashing you until that smell washes out."

"Hey, that's—"

"Guys!" Aang jogged over to them, beaming. Behind him, the villagers were joyfully reuniting with the others who had emerged along with Sokka—Katara noticed that a few of them were subtly fanning the Spirit World smell away from their faces. "This is great! We're all back together and Appa's rested—we can get going right away!"

Katara turned. "What do you mean?"

Sokka crossed his arms and came to stand beside her. "Yeah, Aang. It's _night_. As in, I've been awake for more than twenty-four hours, and I am _not_ going anywhere until I get a solid fourteen hours of sleep."

Katara rolled her eyes and elbowed him in the side. "Lazy."

"I saw Avatar Roku's dragon," Aang said earnestly. "There's a temple he wants me to visit on the solstice." He looked to Katara for support. "I think Roku wants to talk to us."

She brightened. As spirits went, one of their previous incarnations _had_ to be more helpful and more pleasant than Hei Bai. "Great! The solstice hasn't started yet. That still gives us some time."

Sokka was less optimistic. He rubbed his chin and narrowed his eyes.

 _Spirits,_ the stench was still overpowering.

"How far away is this temple you speak of?" Sokka asked.

"Not too far," Aang bounced on the balls of his feet, clearly eager to move, to start their journey again. "We'll be able to get there in plenty of time if we hurry."

Under the eagerness, there was something else—a slight edge of apprehension in his voice. Katara frowned. He was hiding something.

"Aang— _where_ exactly is the temple Avatar Roku wants us to visit?"

"It's—" Aang cut off, looking around as though searching for something. "Hey, Katara, where has Momo been? I haven't seen him since I got back."

Sokka stepped forward and grabbed Aang by the shoulders. "Uh-uh, Aang. No avoiding the question. Where is the temple?" He searched Aang's face. "It's not south of here, is it? Because this trip is taking way too much time the way it is. If we slow down at all, you _know_ Zuko is going to catch up with us."

Aang fiddled with his staff. "No, it's not that far out of our way."

"So what's the problem?" Sokka pried.

"It's—" Aang glanced at Katara again. "The temple is on Crescent Island."

A pause—he looked hopeful, as though they might guess at his hidden meaning if he just smiled enough.

But after a moment, Aang gave in. "That's in the Fire Nation."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Wanna know what hubris looks like? This. Chapter 11 and 12 of this fic.

When I was first drafting this part of the story back in September (shhhhh, we're not gonna talk about that), I was completely convinced that my version of The Winter Solstice Part 1 would going to be short. Like 2-3k words _tops._ But I also wanted to do my own thing and give side characters the dignity of having names (I did... and they got cut, but the old man who met the Gaang outside the village was going to be named Hao, and Nuwa is supposed to be his wife, and the village leader was going to be named Lim Hou), and create some cool old ladies for Katara to meet, and play with Zuko's relationship with Iroh, and give Sokka some time in the spirit world, and... you know, while I'm at it, why not get the White Lotus in on things too? And I thought I could do that all in a short, transitional chapter.

Ha. Hahaha.

Whoops.

I swear, if I ever start writing original fiction again, I'm gonna sit down with a novel-length idea and come out with a six book series and at least two prequels.

Anyway! Two more weeks of updates are on the way, and I'm making good progress on Chapter 15 (which might actually be 15 _and_ 16? Too soon to tell). Comments, questions, and general yelling are always appreciated! And you can always check out my Tumblr (@soopersara)if you're interested!


	13. Water: Into Enemy Territory: Part 1

**Water**

 **Into Enemy Territory: Part 1**

Zuko _wasn't_ sulking. Hiding in his cabin for a day and a night, refusing food and company—that _wasn't sulking._ It was completely justifiable—moping? No, that wasn't the right word for it either. Too undignified.

He stared at the candles and tried to focus. Uncle was always telling him to keep his breath and emotions steady, to control his chi and his flames rather than allowing them to control him. It was as good a use of his time as anything else. Maybe he could improve his bending while he kept himself locked away. Maybe improving his bending would make everything else easier.

The flames wavered as he let out a breath. _Damn it_. He couldn't get the Avatar— _his failure_ —out of his mind long enough to keep his control consistent. And he was _trying._

It shouldn't be this hard. Not firebending, not his hunt for the Avatar, not keeping his crew under control, none of it. He was a prince, for Agni's sake. Royalty wasn't meant to struggle like this. He didn't expect luck like Azula's, or the sort of unquestioning obedience that Father demanded from his council and his advisors, or even the gleeful sort of dedication and admiration that Uncle seemed to inspire at every turn. But was it really too much to ask for things to go right _once_ in his life?

"Prince Zuko!" The voice echoed down the steel corridor, through Zuko's heavy—and _locked—_ door.

Zuko's fists clenched, and the candles flared.

"Prince Zuko, open up." There was a series of forceful knocks.

"Go away," he shouted. Maybe he sounded a little juvenile, a little petulant, but he didn't care. He didn't want to see anyone. Least of all, Lieutenant Jee.

Jee snorted. "Fine. Don't mind me. General Iroh just thought you might be interested to know that we have the Avatar's bison in our sights."

"What?" Zuko sprang to his feet, knocking over one of the candles in the process. He swore and extinguished them all with a hasty wave of his hand before he vaulted over his bed. He'd left candles burning in his cabin once, and he wouldn't make that mistake again. His bed still wasn't the same.

He shoved his way into the corridor, past Jee and sprinted up the stairs to the control tower two at a time. Even before he snatched the spyglass out of the helmsman's hand, he could make out the off-white smudge of the bison against the backdrop of heavy gray clouds. Zuko trained his eye on the quickly receding speck. If he squinted, he thought he could even see two tiny blue shapes and a flash of yellow-orange on the bison's back.

"Follow them," he roared. "We can't lose sight of them again."

* * *

"Remind me what part of this was a good idea?" Sokka leaned off the front of the saddle. "We are on a very-visible, very-large, and very-fuzzy flying snot ball. How are they _not_ going to see us?"

"The other ship is closing in too, Aang, " Katara yelled from her place at the rear of the saddle. She hung over the edge long enough to see the flecks of red swarming toward a catapult, then she yelped and crawled to the front. "Do you think it's Zuko?" she asked her brother in a much lower voice.

"No, I think it's his much-nicer twin." Sokka threw his hands up. "Who else would be chasing us, Katara? It's been him ever since the South Pole. Of _course_ it's Zuko!"

She pursed her lips. "No need to be a jerk about it."

"Maybe there's no _need_ , but it makes me feel better." Sokka flipped his boomerang and snagged it back out of the air.

Katara rolled her eyes and looked ahead at the naval blockade. Much as she hated to admit it, Sokka had a point about their visibility. They'd be lucky to squeeze a _canoe_ between the Fire Navy ships. Appa at least had the advantage of flight, but Katara would almost prefer to face Zuko again. At least his crew didn't outnumber them quite so badly. At least they'd won a fight against Zuko before. These ships were bigger, more heavily armed, and, she could only assume, brimming with even more ruthless firebenders.

She leaned over the front of the saddle. "So. How are we going to do this?"

* * *

Though they were too far away for Zuko to recognize the faces staring down at his ship, he knew the fleet's insignia. Zhao's fleet. And yet there were no attacks aimed in his direction. Plenty were aimed at the bison, but none at him. That felt wrong. There should be _something._ Zhao should be trying to stop Zuko, or at least to slow him down, but there was nothing.

 _They're focused on the Avatar,_ he told himself. That had to be it. The Avatar was a threat to the whole Fire Nation, and as far as Zhao was concerned, Zuko was only a nuisance. That _had_ to be the explanation.

Jee stared back over his shoulder and let out a low whistle. "That can't be a good sign. Zhao holding his ground—"

Zuko's hands and his stomach clenched. "That's enough, Lieutenant."

"That asshole doesn't just stand aside, Prince Zuko. Zhao would sell his mother to a monkey trainer if he thought it would advance his career."

From Zuko's other side, Uncle let out a _hmpf._ "I am afraid that I agree with Lieutenant Jee." His eyes landed on Zuko, piercing straight through him. "Commander Zhao is a man consumed by ambition, Prince Zuko. He does not grant favors out of the kindness of his heart."

 _Does Zhao even have a heart?_ Zuko wanted to ask. If he did, there was nothing even resembling kindness in it. _Kind_ men didn't last in the Fire Nation. _Kind_ men didn't survive the navy. _Kind_ men certainly didn't get promotions.

He shook the thought out of his head. Zhao's reasons didn't matter. They had a clear path to pursue the Avatar, and Zuko would not let this opportunity pass.

"We aren't retreating," Zuko said sharply. "The Avatar is my mission, not Zhao's." He fixed his deepest scowl on Jee. "I don't care if this is a trap. We'll pursue the Avatar to the end of the world if we have to."

* * *

Flying usually didn't bother Katara. She liked sailing over the clouds, watching the landscape below them shift, watching new things appear with every mile they travelled. It fascinated her to see how enormous the world was, how many things were different than they were at home. She wasn't really afraid of heights, and she trusted both Aang and Appa.

But flying over a Fire Navy blockade on a sky bison while flaming lumps hurtled at them from the ships was downright terrifying. They couldn't fly too high, or the air might become too thin to breathe, they couldn't go around without arriving at Crescent Island too late—if there even _was_ a way to go around. So they flew straight ahead, Sokka and Katara both clinging desperately to the saddle as Aang steered them in sharp loops and zigzags to stay clear of the fireballs. Still, one passed frighteningly near the saddle, and she screamed. Not as loud or as high pitched as Sokka, though. She took that as something of a consolation.

When they finally landed, she dismounted a little less gracefully than usual. Her knees were a bit wobbly from the adrenaline, and she took a second to stretch. Fire Nation or not, standing on solid ground was a relief.

"Now that we're here," Sokka said, pointing his boomerang at Katara, then at Aang, "You two had better watch out. We're in enemy territory. I'm sure there's a great big Fire Nation army outpost just over that hill, and I'm _positive_ they'll have an evil plan to take the both of you down." He puffed out his chest. "I'll do my best to protect you both, but I'm only one man. There's only so many firebenders I can take with my trusty boomerang."

 _One. You could take one firebender with your boomerang_. Katara bit back the retort.

"How bad can it be?" Aang asked, voice bright. "This is a temple. If it's anything like the Air Temples were a hundred years ago, we'll be fine."

"Right." Sokka said flatly. "I'm sure they have lots of nice fire monks baking pies and playing board games here."

Aang beamed. "Exactly! Besides, we just need to get in long enough to talk to Avatar Roku. If we move fast enough, they'll never even know we were here."

Katara wished that she could believe it was that simple. Dealing with the spirits was hard. Planting seeds to pacify Hei Bai was one thing. They hadn't needed to break into a temple on enemy territory, or find a special sanctuary with a certain statue, or figure out how to contact him once they got there. Hei Bai came to them. From what Aang had told them of his vision, Roku had made no such promise. They would have to contact _him._

 _Just one more impossible thing_.

Katara frowned. She wasn't going to be a pessimist, Sokka had that covered for all three of them. But the slope up toward the temple was steep and rocky, and she couldn't help but remember how Aang had told her—quiet enough that Sokka couldn't hear—that the vision wasn't actually _of_ Roku. It was his dragon. And the dragon hadn't actually told him to come here, it had just shown him the island and the temple and the statue.

She wasn't going to be a pessimist, but knowing that they were here on the word—or _not_ the word—of a spirit dragon wasn't entirely encouraging.

Still, she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. They were here. If there were any answers to be found here, she wasn't going to leave without them.

"Let's go. Zuko can't be too far behind us."

* * *

Zuko wracked his brain for any remnants of his childhood lessons in history and geography. When his learning was focused on the Fire Nation and its territories and organized by tutors, not focused on whatever little harbor town they happened to be visiting and reliant on Uncle's whims and ramblings. He _had_ to remember something useful about Crescent Island. It was a volcanic island, but there was nothing significant about that. Most of the Fire Nation was volcanic. Crescent Island was home to the High Fire Sage and the most sacred temple of Agni, but little else. There were no significant settlements, no military bases, nothing of any strategic value.

He let out a frustrated breath as he pored over the map again. What on earth did the Avatar even want with Crescent Island? The Sages were bound by oath to serve the Fire Lord above all else. There was _nothing_ for the Avatar to steal or destroy, nothing that would have any real impact on the Fire Nation or the war. It didn't make sense. Why would she risk going into the Fire Nation with nothing to gain?

"Crescent Island may be sacred ground, Prince Zuko," Uncle said gravely, voice quiet. "But it is still Fire Nation territory. By the terms of your banishment—"

"I'm aware, Uncle."

"—you can be killed on sight," Uncle finished, undeterred. "You cannot take that risk. If the sages are truly loyal to my brother, this may be the last thing you ever do."

Zuko narrowed his eyes. "Is that supposed to be a threat?"

Uncle's usual levity was gone. In its place, a steely look came over his face. For an instant, Zuko could see the general he had once been—a man utterly focused on his purpose, ruthless and cold. "It is a warning. You know the limits of the Fire Lord's mercy as well as I." The old man's dark amber eyes slid pointedly to the left side of Zuko's face. "Capturing the Avatar is not worth your life, Prince Zuko."

Zuko stared down at Uncle. "Capturing the Avatar is my only chance to take my life back."

Uncle shook his head. His tone turned softer, almost pleading. "Please, consider your safety and continue your pursuit once the Avatar departs again. They will not stay on the island long."

Zuko's resolve strengthened. Uncle was wrong about this. Uncle _wasn't_ the same general he used to be. He was soft, and softness could not survive in the Fire Nation. Zuko would not be soft. Never again.

"No. The Avatar is the Fire Nation's greatest enemy. Capturing the Avatar is my duty to my nation." He straightened his spine, taking full advantage of his height. "It's worth _more_ than my life."

* * *

The temple was impressive, Katara had to admit that much. It was like nothing she'd ever seen before, all reds and golds, the flat roofs sweeping down and back up to graceful points at the corners. There were none of the spires that the Air Temple had boasted, and it was neither as low and sturdy as the houses she'd seen through the Earth Kingdom so far, nor as blocky and towering as Omashu. If it weren't for all the red, for the golden sculptures of dragons and tongues of flames, if not for the knowledge that this was the _Fire Nation_ , she might have even thought it was pretty.

They snuck around the side of the temple, keeping close to the ground. Sokka had insisted that a side entrance would be less dangerous—less conspicuous. As it was, the three of them blended into the landscape like a cluster of tropical birds at the South Pole. They needed every advantage they could get.

Somehow, they made it inside without being spotted. The ceilings were cavernous and dark above them, and the walls, the tapestries, the floors, _everything_ was red. What little light shone through the corridors was faint and flickering, flames filtered through soot-smeared glass.

It was all so much bigger than Katara expected, so much darker and quieter and more ominous. She kept a wary hand hovering over her waterskin as they crept farther into the shadowy temple.

"Okay, Aang, you're the one who had a vision of this place," Sokka hissed, ducking behind a smooth obsidian column at the edge of a large room, machete in one hand, boomerang in the other. "Which way do we go?"

Aang opened his mouth to reply, but a deep voice from the other end of the room spoke first. "By Agni's feathers. Where did you three come from?"

Katara yelped, Aang leapt several yards into the air, and Sokka swung around, machete brandished.

"Who are we? Who are _you?_ " Sokka's voice gave a rather undignified squeak at the end.

The man—dressed in red from his odd, pointy hat down to his pointy-toed slippers—cocked his head to the side. "I don't believe I asked who you were."

Katara fumbled to uncap the waterskin at her hip while Sokka wavered between brandishing his machete and his boomerang. Only Aang didn't seem particularly interested in preparing to fight, and Katara nudged him.

" _Aang,"_ she hissed. It was only a matter of time until the firebender—

The man looked them over and his eyes stopped at the tattoo on Aang's forehead. "Avatar." The man knelt and bowed so low that his forehead touched the floor. "It is the greatest honor to meet you at last."

—attacked? This didn't seem right.

Aang scratched his head. "Uh—I guess it's nice to meet you too, Mister Fire Monk?"

Katara shared a glance with Sokka.

"It's _Fire Sage,"_ the man informed them, his tone surprisingly polite as he stood. "And you may call me Shyu."

Sokka jabbed his machete at Shyu. "What _exactly_ is going on here? Why aren't you attacking us?"

Katara felt her eyes widen. She wanted to know the answer too, but asking seemed like a bad idea. A dangerous idea.

But before anyone could speak, there were footsteps in the corridor and the Fire Sage's eyes widened. "Quickly!" He pointed them to the right, farther into the darkened center of the chamber. "My brother Sages will not be pleased to find the Avatar here."

Sokka scowled. "And why should we trust _you?_ " He edged backward, closer to Aang and Katara, and they closed in too, forming a tight wedge.

"There is no time," Shyu hissed as the footsteps drew nearer. "You may not trust me, Avatar, but I assure you that whatever the others have in store for you is far worse than you imagine."

Katara scrutinized Shyu. He was Fire Nation, and bigger than all of them, and probably a capable fighter, but she saw no sign of deception in his eyes. And there was more than one set of footsteps coming their way. One man might be able to overpower them, but being outnumbered would be worse.

Sokka glanced back long enough to meet Katara's eyes. She shrugged, and Aang nodded, a bit too eager.

"Okay," Katara whispered, her voice carrying farther in the enormous hall than she expected. "Show us where to go."

* * *

"Anchor here," Zuko ordered when they had passed the narrow entrance of the bay. Crescent Island wasn't good for much, but the bay was too small for any vessel larger than Zuko's. Zhao wouldn't be able to anchor anywhere near the docks, he'd have to send men across the bay on skiffs. It wouldn't be enough to give Zuko a real advantage, but at the least, he wouldn't need to face the full force of the Western Fleet.

He took the stairs two at a time down to the hold where his own skiff—rusted and battered with age and use—waited for him. He could hear Uncle's protests and words of caution echoing after him. He didn't care. The Avatar was here. They'd been near enough in pursuit to see the great white beast land. And this time, Zuko wasn't going to let himself be weighed down by an unnecessary entourage. This was _his_ fight, _his_ search. He had to capture the Avatar personally, and as the last few days had proven, his crew only slowed him down.

It was a shame that the skiff required more than one person to operate. Zuko would have preferred to do this himself too.

"Take us in," he barked at the private manning the wheel, and pointed toward a rocky outcropping directly beneath the temple. The temple _had_ to be the Avatar's destination, and the docks were too far away to be useful for his purposes.

The private—Taro, Zuko remembered—frowned. "Sir, those rocks—"

"Are the nearest I can get to my target." Zuko shot a blazing look at the older man. Zuko wasn't _entirely_ stupid. He'd been doing this for three years, he knew that it would be too risky to drop anchor near the outcropping. But they didn't need to anchor there. "They won't sink us. You are to let me off there, then go to the docks. I'll bring the Avatar there once I've captured h—him." _Agni_ , he'd be grateful when he had the Avatar and the airbender both in custody and he could finally reveal the girl's identity. He wasn't getting any better at lying.

Taro frowned but turned the wheel toward the outcropping. "Are you certain you don't want us to accompany you, Prince Zuko? We could anchor closer to the coast so that when the tide comes in—"

"No!" Zuko snapped. "Do as I say. I won't have anyone else slowing me down."

* * *

To Shyu's credit, the chamber he led them into was unoccupied. And silent. And, more than likely, secret. The door was well-concealed, and the chamber itself was rough-hewn stone tucked beneath the rest of the temple. Not exactly a popular gathering place, if the layer of undisturbed grime on the walls was any indication.

The heat, though. Katara was not thrilled about the heat.

"You've come to speak with Avatar Roku?" Shyu looked puzzled.

Aang nodded. "Yeah! I went into the Spirit World a couple of days ago—"

Sokka uncrossed his arms to raise a hand. "I was there too. Can't say that I was impressed with the place."

"—and Roku's dragon came to visit me," Aang carried on, unfazed by the interruption. "He gave me a vision and said that I— _we_ had to come here on the day of the solstice."

One of Shyu's eyebrows cocked upward. "The dragon told you this?"

"Well, he didn't exactly _talk_ , but I saw the statue of Roku and the sunset. It was pretty clear what he meant."

Katara's brows furrowed. Aang hadn't told them the specifics of his vision before, and now she could understand why. Had she known that they were relying on a few vague images, she would have been hesitant to agree to this trip. Sokka probably would have skipped straight past hesitance and tied Aang to the saddle until the solstice was long past. As it was, Sokka's eyes looked a bit—well, _buggy._

"A statue of Roku." Shyu stroked his little pointed beard. "That must be the high sanctuary."

Katara shook the hesitation out of her head. They were here. They'd managed to get into the temple, it would be silly to turn around now, when answers were so close. "Can you take us there?"

"It is the holiest place in the whole of the Fire Nation," Shyu said gravely. "The high sanctuary is not to be entered lightly. Only the Avatar himself or one consecrated to Agni's service may enter." He looked pointedly at Katara and Sokka. "I do not doubt your intentions, young Water Tribe warriors, but I cannot permit you entry."

Katara wanted to protest. She started to protest, but Sokka clapped a sweaty hand over her mouth. Gross. She'd licked his hand. Spirits only knew when he'd last washed it.

"Fine, fine. Only the Avatar goes in," Sokka said. "We've got it. Can you take us there?"

Shyu cast his gaze over their little group again, then gave a deep bow. Not as deep as when he'd first met them, thankfully. "I believe, as my forefathers did, that the truest service to Agni lies in serving the Avatar. Yes. I will lead you to the sanctuary."

* * *

By now, moving with the shadows, unheard and unseen was second nature. Zuko could sneak in and out of the most heavily guarded fortresses and prisons the Earth Kingdom had to offer. Earth Kingdom security, of course, was nothing compared with what the Fire Nation was capable of, but this was a temple. Security was hardly their highest concern.

That was fortunate. Zuko had grace and stealth, but sneaking in full armor was unusual. The extra weight made his footsteps a fraction heavier, and _his_ armor was made for a prince. The extra flashes of gold at the seams caught the light more than he would have liked.

But the dim, stark stone corridors were empty. The slight creak where his shoulder plates met his breastplate didn't really matter when there was no one around to hear it.

Zuko came to an enormous room—almost a forest of sleek obsidian columns—and paused. Where would the Avatar have gone? She had to have a destination in mind, or she wouldn't be here. She wasn't _that_ stupid. If she was, Zuko would have caught up with her by now.

After a moment of thought, Zuko turned decisively to the right, toward the center of the temple. He tried to ignore the twinge of homesickness in his stomach as his eyes skimmed over the tapestries lining the walls—golden dragons on backdrops of swirling red, a phoenix consumed by flame, and rows upon rows of prostrate sages bowing in reverence to the sun. These were nothing in comparison with the tapestries of the Fire Nation palace, but he recognized the designs, vaguely recalled when his mother had told him the stories that they depicted. He was close now. So close. Back on native soil for the first time in nearly three years, and finally within reach of the Avatar. All he had to do was secure her and the airbender and take them back to the skiff. Zuko could manage that much. The girl would have precious little access to water here, and the airbender was hardly an impressive fighter. Taking them down should be easy, especially in a confined space like this.

 _It should be easy,_ a small voice told him, _but it won't be. Get used to it, Zuko, nothing is easy for you. Nothing is ever_ going _to be easy for you._

His jaw tightened and he ducked into a patch of darkness behind one of the columns at the sound of approaching footsteps. Fine. It wouldn't be easy, but it wasn't _meant_ to be easy. Zuko was here to prove his worth to Father—to the whole of the Fire Nation. This was the most important thing he would ever do. Regaining his honor didn't mean that he was meant to stumble into a solution by luck alone. He had to earn it.

The footsteps passed, and Zuko let out a breath. Keeping to the shadows as much as he could, he continued on toward the center of the temple.

* * *

Sokka's idea didn't work. It sounded like a good plan, but his fake firebending had no impact on the door. Apparently the mechanism was smarter than they'd given it credit for.

"You said it would take five sages to open the sanctuary," Katara said, sitting cross-legged on the floor with her elbows resting on her knees.

"Or one Avatar," Shyu agreed.

"But why five people? You have two hands. Can't you shoot two fireballs at once?"

Shyu looked a little reluctant. "Tradition dictates that five sages must be present to open the sanctuary, but—"

Sokka waved his hand to urge him on. "But?"

"But—in theory, it could be done with three."

Katara felt Sokka's eyes turn her direction. "So if Aang could figure out how to shoot two fireballs, we would only need one more firebender?"

Shyu sighed and ran a hand over the scaly carving of a dragon's neck. "Perhaps, yes. Unfortunately, my brothers will refuse. The order has become twisted over the decades—many of them forget our true purpose. To uphold Agni's light in the world, to maintain balance. They have been deluded into the belief that the Fire Lord serves the sacred order of the universe."

She caught Sokka's warning look— _Katara, this guy is Fire Nation. You can't trust him to keep your secret_ —but she ignored it. "Do you think you could show us—show _Aang_ how to do it? Two fireballs can't be that hard, right? It's just a matter of aim and timing, not power."

Pulling his hand away from the door, Shyu studied her. "That would still leave us short a firebender."

Katara stood. "Not necessarily."

" _Katara."_ Sokka grabbed her arm. "Knock it off, okay? It's dangerous enough just being here. We don't need you blabbing to the first fire scum who doesn't try to incinerate us." He shot a sheepish smile back at Shyu. "No offense. But—y'know. Your people haven't exactly proven themselves trustworthy."

She wrenched her arm out of Sokka's grip. "We don't have any other ideas, Sokka. Come _on_. We're way too close to give up now."

Sokka threw his hands up. "This is crazy! You're crazy, Katara!"

She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled.

"Aang! Tell her that she's crazy!"

"Uh—" The monk looked between them both. "I guess—it's not like we have a lot of choices right now, Sokka."

Katara straightened in triumph. "See? Aang agrees with me, and _he_ —" She gestured wildly toward Shyu, who was staring as though the three of them had turned into two-headed, buggy-eyed monsters. "—has done nothing but help us so far. What other options do you think we have?"

Shyu shook his head as if to clear some of the confusion from his eyes. "This is true. Whatever secrets you have, young friends of the Avatar, I have no intention of revealing them." He frowned slightly. "I do not believe in my brother sages' methods, but I do not savor the idea of being tried for treason either."

"Well, that's very reassuring. Thanks." Sokka's tone was dry and he rolled his eyes. "Guys, seriously. There has to be a better way—"

There was a crash from somewhere down the corridor and voices rang toward them.

"They're coming!" Shyu hissed, his eyes widening in alarm. "I'm sorry, it's too late. You must go."

The approaching voices were still distant, but there were several of them. More than enough to open the sanctuary with Shyu's help.

Katara's face broke into a grin. "Shyu, do you think you could convince them that we're already inside?"

"Perhaps, but—"

"Good!" Katara grabbed Aang and Sokka by the arms and steered them both behind a column. "Do that. Tell them that the Avatar made it into the sanctuary already."

Aang looked up at her, eyes wide. "But, Katara—"

"Shh." She huddled behind the column with the boys. "Just trust me, okay?"

"Shyu?" A creaky old voice echoed down the hallway. "What are you doing there? It's Pai Sho night."

"Brothers! I've seen the Avatar!" Shyu's tone was agitated. "He's here, and he made it into the high sanctuary!"

"So open it." This voice was harsh and raspy. Not particularly familiar, but unmistakable. "Well?" Zuko shouted when there was no response. "Open the sanctuary. The Avatar is an enemy to the Fire Nation. Sh— _he_ cannot be allowed to remain on sacred ground!"

 _Oh no, oh no, oh no._ Katara tilted her head back, trying to calm her racing heart. Trying to sneak past the sages without being caught would be hard enough. With Zuko there—

"On my cue." Zuko's voice was firmer, less irrational than she'd ever heard it before, and then there was a roar of flames.

The heat reached them in a wave—Katara's skin prickled at the sudden warmth, and she felt a fine sheen of sweat erupt on her forehead. But the rush of heat subsided as quickly as it had come, and with a great metallic groaning, the rush of hot air was replaced by a surge of cold from inside the sanctuary.

She glanced at Aang, but he was already in motion. With a running leap, he vaulted over the firebenders and shot a blast of air to drive them further from the sanctuary. Katara sprinted after him as the firebenders lost their balance. She nearly tripped over one of the larger men, and Aang reached out toward her. She regained her balance, though, and raced forward— _so close, so close_. Once they got the doors closed after them, they would have at least a few seconds to barricade them—then she and Aang could try to contact Avatar Roku.

Zuko recovered faster than the sages, and before Katara could reach the safety of the sanctuary, he was up again, scrambling after her.

A hand closed around her wrist. Katara whirled instinctively around, and her fist made contact with his nose. He yelled, and for an instant, his grip failed. That was enough. Katara twisted her arm free and kicked vaguely in the direction of his shin—she hit _something,_ though she wasn't certain whether it was Zuko's leg or one of the fallen sages.

"Come on, Katara!" Aang shouted, and she darted over the threshold after him.

Neither the punch nor the kick had slowed Zuko down much. When she took hold of one of the doors, he was only three steps behind, and she pushed with all her might to close it while Aang did the same on the other side. The doors were heavy—made of steel and clearly not intended to be opened or shut often, but terror gave Katara a burst of sudden strength and energy—the doors latched shut an instant before Zuko could reach them, closing just slowly enough that she caught a glimpse of his wide-eyed stare.

"We did it!" Aang said, his gray eyes shining with excitement.

With a breathless nod, Katara turned to rest her back against the inside of the door—it was less ornate than the outside, but some of the ornamental bits still dug into her shoulder blades. "We'll have to barricade the door to keep them out. But we made it." She managed a smile before she took a proper look around the room.

It was narrower than she expected, but it made up for that by being exceptionally long, almost a hallway in its own right, with ceilings so high that they disappeared into the darkness above them. As with the rest of the temple, nearly everything was red and black, but here there were a few extra flashes of natural light from red and gold paned windows—somehow, the effect was less of the world being steeped in blood and more of firelight dancing across every surface. As Aang had promised, there was a statue of Avatar Roku as well, gilded and glistening with a stern but benevolent look on his creased face.

Katara let out a breath. They'd made it. That was good. _Amazing_ , really.

She only wished that she knew what to do next.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

You know, as much as I love the later fights in ATLA where everyone is a master and knows exactly what they're doing, I might love the early fights where they're all fumbling around (and still convinced that they know exactly what they're dping) even more. There's just something great about the whole idea of this fantasy world where people fight by controlling the elements and we're following a bunch of kids with godlike powers... and none if them actually know how to _use_ those powers effectively. Hence Katara hauling off and punching Zuko in the nose. My brain went full gremlin-mode a couple of times while writing this, and I have zero regrets.

In other news, Chapter 14 is coming up next week, and Chapter 15 is getting closer! The first draft is complete, and I'm partway done with editing. In the meantime, you can also visit my Tumblr if you're interested, and I always love to see your comments, questions and general yelling in the reviews!


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